


Alternatively, and Additionally, NCIS

by Ytteb



Category: NCIS
Genre: Fantasy, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-06 02:14:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 30,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16379468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ytteb/pseuds/Ytteb
Summary: Abby's experiment sets off a train of unexpected events and revelations about people at NCIS.And this story is most definitely 'alternative' but I hope the characters and setting will be familiar.





	1. Chapter 1

Abby heard something like a sigh and then, momentarily, saw a blur of blue, heard an outraged squawk and a flapping of wings before something beat against the window of her lab and slipped through the open window.

Agent Gibbs strode into the lab a moment or two later and gazed in concern at an Abby who stood stock still in amazement.

“Abby?” he said.  And then, when no reply came, “Abs?  What’s going on?”

Abby turned a dazed smile on him and jumped up and down in excitement, “Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs!  I did it!  I did it … I didn’t think it would work, but it did.  It did!  It did!  It …”

Gibbs interrupted the eruption of excitement, “What did you do, Abs?” he asked tolerantly.

“Oh, well … don’t get mad, Gibbs!  Like I said, I didn’t think it would work … but it did, it did!  That’s so cool!”

“Abs!” said Gibbs sternly, “Talk to me.”

“Well, I am,” pointed out Abby.  “But you’re right,” she went on hastily when she received a Gibbs glare, “It’s just that I’m excited.”

Gibbs decided on another tack, “Is it anything to do with the case my team is working on?”

“No.”

“OK.”  Gibbs decided to cut his losses and turned to go.

“But …”

There was something in that _but_ which touched Gibbs’ _spidey_ senses.  He turned back, “Yes?”

“But you might need to know about it,” said Abby with a touch of reluctance.

“Go on.”

“Well, you know I’ve been helping out at the drop-in centre for recovering drug addicts?”

Gibbs nodded.

“And I’ve met some really interesting people.  And they’ve got some interesting stories to tell.  And some of the things they smoke … well, they’re …”

“Interesting?” suggested Gibbs.

“Yes!  Interesting is the word,” said Abby enthusiastically.

An unwelcome thought came to Gibbs’ mind, “Abby, you haven’t been _experimenting_ with anything, have you?”

“Oh no, Gibbs!  I don’t allow any artificial stimulants into my body!  My body is a temple.”

Gibbs looked at her sceptically as he thought of her devotion to junk food and CafPows but then, he thought as he took a sip of his coffee, he was in no position to criticize Abby for her choices of beverage.  He nodded at her to continue.

“Well, I met this really nice lady called Azaria …”

“Azaria?”

“I know, isn’t that a _cool_ name?” said Abby as she misinterpreted Gibbs’ reaction to the name.

Gibbs decided not to get into a discussion around the merits of _Azaria_ as a name and simply shrugged.

“So, Azaria told me she had special powers,” said Abby in a slightly lower tone.

“Was this before or after she’d smoked something?”

“Gibbs!  Not nice!  No, Azaria is completely clean.  She said that she had these powers, but she wanted to share them with other people.”

“For free?” asked Gibbs.

“Well,” said Abby cautiously, “I’m sure she would; she really doesn’t think it’s right that people don’t know about special powers … but …”

“But what?”

“But she’s really poor and she needs the money.  She wants to set up a service offering her special powers but at the moment … well, she has to work on a smaller scale.”

“And you believed her?  About these special powers?”

“I’m a scientist, Gibbs,” said Abby indignantly, “I applied my scientific instincts.”

Gibbs looked at Abby’s voodoo dolls standing next to her tarot cards and raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“And what did you decide?” he asked.

“I think she believes it,” said Abby after a long pause, “And there was something about her …”

“What did you do?”

“She gave me a spell to change a living … being … into a blue parakeet,” said Abby.

“A blue parakeet?  She had a spell for changing something into a blue parakeet?”

“Well, no … I asked for a blue parakeet and she wrote one.”

Gibbs wanted to ask why Abby wanted a blue parakeet but decided that was a discussion for another time.

“How much did she charge you?”

“53 dollars.”

“53 dollars? That’s specific.”

“I thought that was cheap,” said Abby.

Gibbs shrugged again as he realised he had no idea what the going rate was for changing something into a blue parakeet.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I decided to try it in my lab,” said Abby.  “’Cos it’s really clean here and I didn’t want anything to interfere with the spell.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know … I didn’t want something foreign substance to mess things up.  I just thought I should do it here.”

“And what happened?” asked Gibbs, “When you tried it?”

“I can show you!” said Abby.  “I recorded it.”  She spun around to her bench and tapped on her keyboard to bring up a recording on her screen.

As Gibbs watched, he saw Abby standing in the middle of her lab, arms outstretched and chanting something.

“I figured the arms outstretched might help,” said Abby confidentially, “But Azaria didn’t say it was important.”

Gibbs didn’t take his eyes off the screen and presently heard a rushing sound before the middle of the screen pixilated for a few seconds before returning to normal.

“Oh,” said Abby disappointed, “It doesn’t show anything.  But that’s cool really because it shows something happened.  My cameras never pixilate.”

“So, what happened then?”

“It worked!” said Abby.

“I don’t see a blue parakeet,” Gibbs pointed out.

“For a second,” said Abby, “I’m sure for a moment there was a blue parakeet flying overhead.  But then it changed into something else, I think it had a curled beak … and then it got out of the window and it was gone.”

Gibbs wasn’t often at a loss but, experienced as he was with Abby’s _Abbiness_ , he wasn’t sure what was expected of him this time.

“Oh, well,” he said at last, “Maybe you’ll just have to ask Azaria what went wrong.”  Once again, he turned to go.

“I will,” said Abby fervently.  “She’ll know what to do.”

Gibbs didn’t want to get involved anymore in Abby’s schemes; he thought that perhaps they’d got off lightly but something in Abby’s voice set off an alarm for him.

“Do about what?” he asked, “The … bird … has gone.  If it was ever here.”

Abby wrung her hands anxiously, “Well, don’t get mad, Gibbs.”

“Abs?”

“You remember I said it was a spell to change something into a blue parakeet?”

“Yes?”

“Something _living_?”

“Yes,” Gibbs was aware of an increasing sense of impending doom.

“Well …”

“Abby, what did you want to change into a parakeet?”

“Not some _thing_ ,” said Abby. 

“You turned an animal into a parakeet?”

“No!” said Abby scornfully.  “I mean, how would I have got an animal on to the Navy Yard?”

Gibbs felt that, if required, Abby would have been more than capable of smuggling a hippopotamus or two into her lab but, once again, decided not to argue the point.

“Abby, what did you change into a parakeet?”

“Not a _what …_ a _who_ ,” said Abby.

“A who?  And who …” Gibbs trailed off as he remembered that he had come down to the lab to chase up Tony DiNozzo who had left a few minutes before to deliver a CafPow.

“A Tony,” confessed Abby.  “Oh, Gibbs!  I turned Tony into a blue parakeet!  And now he’s gone!”


	2. Chapter 2

Deputy Director Jerome Craig was sitting at his desk working through a mountain of paperwork when his head suddenly jerked up and he seemed almost to sniff the air.  After a moment or two he returned to his work but then paused as he saw a bird perched on the window ledge outside his office.

Jerome hastened to the window and opened it to let the creature in.  He stepped back cautiously, allowing the visitor plenty of room.

“You OK there?” he asked.

The bird’s head tilted a little and Jerome seemed to take that as some acknowledgement.

“How long?” he asked.

For answer he got a high-pitched chatter before the bird flew on to Jerome’s desk and pecked at his keyboard.

“Careful,” admonished Craig.  The bird gave him a baleful look before flying to perch on the chair in front of his desk.  Jerome peered at his computer screen and nodded.  He looked at his watch, “We’ll wait,” he announced.

For this, he got another menacing look before the bird began to run his beak over his talons.

“Hey,” said Jerome, “Attend to your personal hygiene at home, can’t you?”  The bird gazed at him once more but seemed to decide that there was humour behind the words.  The bird stopped his cleaning but jumped up and down on the chair in a fidgety way.

“Patience,” said Jerome calmly, “We’ll sort this out.”

Three more minutes passed and then there was a rushing sound: Jerome saw a mini tornado spin on his chair and then, after a loud popping sound, he saw Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo sitting on the chair.

“You OK?” asked Craig, apparently unfazed by the transformation of a bird into the Senior Field Agent of the Major Case Response Team.

Tony shook himself in a manner reminiscent of a bird settling its plumage and nodded.

“I’m guessing,” said Jerome cautiously, “That you didn’t do this yourself?”

It turned out that Tony’s baleful look didn’t diminish even when it was no longer coming from a bird’s eyes.

“What do you think?” he asked crossly.

“I didn’t think so,” said the Deputy Director, “I felt something.”

“So did I!  And it wasn’t pleasant,” snapped Tony.

“What happened?” asked Jerome.

“I went down to Abby’s lab …”

“Ah,” said Craig.

“Next time, I’m gonna make Gibbs deliver her damn CafPows!” said Tony with unwonted bitterness.

“Yes?”

“I’d just got through the door when I got hit by … something.”

“What?”

“Not sure,” said Tony thoughtfully, “But it felt odd – with an overtone of nasty.  Very nasty.  Before I knew what was going on I was changing …”

“Changing?  How so?”

“Changing into something else … it looked like the blue budgie my Aunt Clara had in England … you know, a parakeet.”

“And?”

“And I decided I didn’t want to be a parakeet – blue or otherwise – so I took steps …”

“Or wings,” said Jerome with an unwise attempt at humour which was met by another of Tony’s hard stares.  “So, you changed into a merlin,” he continued more soberly.

Tony sighed discontentedly, “Yeah, I know.  It’s a bit of a cliché but I didn’t have much time to react.”

“Good work,” said Jerome pacifically as he tried to make up for his ill-advised joke.

Tony nodded, “Then I couldn’t get through the window – it wasn’t open wide enough, so I changed into a wren and slipped through.”

“And then changed back to the merlin?”

“Felt safer,” admitted Tony, “I mean, I know a merlin falcon isn’t huge but it’s fierce enough to scare off potential predators.”

“And came here,” said Jerome.

“Thought you should know,” said Tony.  “And I needed somewhere safe to stay.  Thought it was best to stay changed for the recommended five minutes.”

Jerome nodded gravely, “Because you always follow the rules!”

Tony grinned for the first time since he had discarded his feathers.  “Well, you know … but seriously, I thought this was a time to follow protocol.”

“What do you think happened?  Is Miss Sciuto OK?”

“I think so.  She was jumping and down with excitement when it happened.  And I looked back quickly before I got away, she looked all right.”

“Does Miss Sciuto have … _APs_?” asked Jerome.

Tony frowned, “I didn’t think so.  In fact, I’m sure not.  I mean, I know she dabbles in voodoo and tarot and stuff like that, but I’ve never thought there was anything going on.  For one thing, I’m not sure she’d be able to keep anything like that under wraps.”

“That’s my feeling too,” said Jerome.  “You know, just before your _arrival_ , I thought I felt something going on.  Something disturbing … but I thought it was just a bad smell coming from somewhere.”

“Then what do you think happened?”

“You’re sure Miss Sciuto was the only person in the lab?”

“I think so.  But I wasn’t paying much attention.  I wasn’t expecting to get ambushed … or at least, not by _that_!  If I’d been more alert I would have fended off the attack and we’d be OK.  Abby would have thought that whatever she did hadn’t worked.”

“We are where we are,” said Jerome, “No point second guessing ourselves.”

“Deputy Director Craig, are you drawing up your own rules?” asked Tony, “Been sharing too much coffee with Gibbs?”

“Not exactly,” said Jerome, “But, as you’ve just come to appreciate, _rules_ can be useful.”

“Yeah, I guess,” said Tony ruefully.  “Hey, you mind if I get a drink … transforming always dehydrates me.”

“Help yourself.  But steer clear of the alcohol … you know …”

“Yeah, I know … protocol,” said Tony helping himself to a glass of sparkling water.

“What are we going to do?” asked Jerome.

“I guess we need to find a way to explain how I disappeared on my way to the lab,” said Tony.  “And make Abby think nothing odd happened.”

Jerome sighed and pulled a pile of blue forms from his desk drawer, “I hate filling out these requests for FMIs.”

“FMIs?”

“Forgetful Mind Implementation.”

“You could always wait and just do an Emergency FMI,” suggested Tony.

Jerome shuddered and drew out a large lime green form, “Not if I can help it,” he said firmly, “EFMIs are even worse.  I’m surprised the Board don’t want them filled out in blood.”

Tony nodded sympathetically.

“And anyway,” said Jerome, “I don’t want to do _any_ kind of FMI yet.  We need to find out why Miss Sciuto did what she did.”

“And how,” said Tony.  “And that might be more important.”

“Why?”

“We already fairly sure that Abby doesn’t have APs … my best guess is that she just liked the idea of changing something into a blue parakeet – she’d think it was cute.  And Abby doesn’t have a bad bone in her body – if she _was_ able to do something like that, it wouldn’t have had that nasty aura.”

“So, you think someone else was behind it?”

“I think so.”

“Who?”

“No idea,” said Tony.

Jerome looked sombre once more, “Someone using Additional Powers unscrupulously?”  Tony nodded.  “That’s serious, Tony.  I’ll have to notify the Board that we think there may be APIs …” he saw Tony’s questioning look, “Additional Powers Incursions,” he explained.  “We may be under attack!”

Tony nodded as he considered what the next move should be but before he could speak, both men twitched and Jerome said, “We’ve got a visitor.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

Special Agent Gibbs had served with distinction in the Marine Corps and was an experienced federal agent: all this meant that he was rarely lost for words or puzzled about what to do but, on this occasion, he was stumped.

“You did what?” he asked Abby.

“I-I changed Tony in a blue parakeet.  Well, for a second or two.”

“And then he vanished?”

“Kinda … well, he got out through the window.  It was only open a crack, so I don’t know how he got through.”

There were many questions Gibbs wanted to ask Abby, but he couldn’t think of any which would explain where his Senior Field Agent was.  He finally settled on one,

“Abs, is this a joke?” he asked hopefully.

Abby looked at him in honest amazement, “Gibbs, when was the last time someone pranked you?”

Gibbs had to acknowledge this was a good answer, but he decided he wanted a straight response before actually beginning to investigate Tony sprouting feathers and flying away,

“Abby, is this a joke?” he asked again.

“No, Gibbs.  This isn’t a joke.  I mean, it was kinda cool but …”

“But?”

“But I’m beginning to think it wasn’t such a good idea after all …”

“You think?!”

“I suppose I didn’t really think it would work, not deep down … and I guess I owe Azaria an apology for doubting her …”

“You owe _Azaria_ an apology?” asked Gibbs incredulously.

“Well, sure.  It’s not nice to doubt people,” said Abby earnestly.

“You don’t think you might owe DiNozzo an apology for turning him into a parakeet?” demanded Gibbs.

“You think he’ll be mad?” asked Abby.

Gibbs didn’t often get angry with Abby, so he counted to ten before saying with relative mildness, “ _I’d_ be mad.”

“You would?  You wouldn’t think it was an adventure … an experience?”  She trailed off doubtfully when she saw the expression on Gibbs’ face.  “Oh,” she said beginning to wring her hands, “We have to find him, Gibbs.  He’ll be frightened out there all on his own.”

“He’s a federal agent,” said Gibbs, “He won’t be frightened, he’s trained to cope with the unexpected.”

Gibbs’ words seemed to cheer Abby up but Gibbs himself couldn’t help but think that little could have trained Tony to cope with being changed into a bird.

Gibbs took another look around the lab in the hope of detecting Tony hiding somewhere and then decided to swing into action.

“Abby, try and clear up that video stuff … see if you unpixilate it or whatever it is that you do.  Get McGee to help you.”

“I can’t,” said Abby.

“What?”

“I can’t get Timmy to help me … he’s taken some personal days: you remember.”

Gibbs frowned as he remembered that Tim had gone to a MIT reunion for three days.  “Get Bishop to help you then,” he ordered.

“Well,” began Abby.

“What … oh yeah, Bishop’s at NSA for a few days helping with an old case,” said Gibbs.

“So it’s just you and Tony in the squad room,” said Abby with a sigh, “It’s like the old days,” she said reminiscently.

“Well, it’s up to you then, Abs,” said Gibbs.

“I won’t let you down,” promised Abby, “Er, where are you going?”

“Gonna see Ducky.  Let me know if you find something.”

A few minutes later, Gibbs strode through the doors of Autopsy.

“Ah, Jethro,” said Dr Mallard, “How good to see you.  And you are, of course, always welcome but I don’t believe I have anything which needs to be reported to you.  Your team has been remarkably free of deceased victims of crime.  Mr Palmer and I have been reviewing old cases and deciding which ones can be archived.  I was just saying …”

“Duck,” said Gibbs, “Can I ask you something?”

“Certainly.”

“Actually, two things,” corrected Gibbs.

“It is always a pleasure to answer questions.  I pride myself that even if I don’t the answer, I will be able to direct the enquirer …”

“Duck, have you seen DiNozzo?”

Ducky was used to being interrupted and wasn’t irritated, “I assume you mean recently?  I have, after all, frequently seen Anthony.”  He chuckled at his witticism but then sensed that Gibbs did not share his amusement, “I believe the last time I saw him was when he came down here this morning to ask a question about the length of time blood would take to coagulate.”

“Not since?”

“No.  Why do you wish to know?”

Gibbs ignored this question, “Ducky, do you believe in … magic?”

“No,” said Ducky with unusual firmness and brevity.  “No, I do not.”

“You don’t?”

“No.  In a lifetime of observing the quirks and oddities surrounding the human condition I have come to believe that all those quirks and oddities have a rational explanation.”

“Oh.”

“And now, Jethro, I fear I must hurry you away.  I have an appointment for which I must not be late.”

Gibbs found himself being hustled out of Ducky’s domain.

NCISNCIS

In the Deputy Director’s office, Jerome and Tony stood as the door swung open,

“Gentlemen,” said the new arrival.

“Commander Coleman,” said Jerome, “You got here quickly.”

Faith Coleman lifted an eyebrow, “I thought it was important?”

“It is … well, we think it is,” said Jerome.

“Tell me,” ordered Faith.

Jerome nodded to Tony who briefly told the JAG Commander what had happened.

“And you stayed in bird form for the recommended time?” she asked.

“Of course,” said Tony smugly.

Faith raised that eyebrow again, “I didn’t realise you were such a stickler for the rules,” she said.

“Well,” said Tony honestly, “I guess I haven’t _always_ done _exactly_ what I should,” he admitted, “But this time …”

“What?” asked Faith.

“Well, it didn’t feel right … the whatever it was … that hit me.  Didn’t seem a good idea to come back as me immediately.”

“I felt an echo of it,” Jerome put in, “And I’d agree that it was something unpleasant.”

“You need to be checked out,” said Faith briskly.

“But …”  Faith stared at Tony who continued, “I feel fine … honest …”

“You need to be checked out,” repeated Faith.  She seemed to listen for a moment or two, “I believe he is on his own.  Go now.”

“How shall I go?” asked Tony, “We haven’t got a plan of action yet.  Do we want to risk Gibbs or Abby seeing me walk around?”

“Good point,” acknowledged Faith.  “I suggest that you go the same way as you arrived and then change into some small animal or insect to get in.”

“Great,” frowned Tony.

“Just make sure you don’t get trodden on,” warned Jerome.  He looked forlornly at his pile of blank forms and Tony found himself wondering which one related to accidental _squashing_.

“In the meantime, Deputy Director Craig and I will come up with a plan,” said Faith.

Jerome opened the window to his office and a merlin falcon was soon flying out on its way to Autopsy.  A few moments later a spider manoeuvred its way through one of the vents and climbed on to one of the examination tables.

“Ugh!” said Jimmy Palmer when he saw it.

Tony hastily popped back into human form before Jimmy could decide to flatten him.

“I knew it was you,” said Jimmy defensively, “I wasn’t going to hurt you.”

“Sorry, didn’t want to take the risk,” said Tony, “I’m not having a good day.”

“That’s OK,” said Jimmy cheerily, “It’s just that I don’t like spiders that much.”

“I’ll try and remember,” promised Tony, “Where’s Ducky?”

“He’s gone to his Pilates class.  It’s Tuesday.”

“Ah.”

“And what can I do for you?” asked Jimmy.

“Nothing.  Can’t I just come and see an old friend?”

“Tony, I know why you’re here,” said Jimmy.

“Then why did you ask?” asked Tony sulkily.

“Oh well, it’s always better if a victim … I mean, patient comes willingly.  Now, stay still.”

Jimmy produced a stethoscope and pressed a button on one of the earpieces before placing the chest piece over Tony’s heart.  “Hmm,” he said.

“Do they teach you that at med school?” asked Tony.

“What?” replied Jimmy absently.

“That _hmm_.  It’s not an encouraging sound, you know.”

“Isn’t it?  Oh well, I’ll try to bear it in mind.”

“So, what’s the verdict?  Apart from me being fine?” asked Tony.

“You’re fine,” said Jimmy, “Your heart’s beating faster than normal but, like you said, you’ve had a busy day.  Now, you’re sure that you …”

“Yes, I stayed changed for the recommended time,” said Tony, “What is it with you people that you don’t believe me?”

Jimmy decided this was a rhetorical question and ignored it.  “I recommend eating a good, nutritious meal tonight and a few hours’ sleep – if possible.”

“Why _if possible_?” asked Tony.  And then, without waiting for an answer, he sighed and said, “No, you’re right … if we are under attack rest and food are going to be in short supply.”  He turned towards the air vent, “Hey, you might want to look away.  I’m going to be a spider again.”

“Tony,” said Palmer before he could transform.

Tony looked back.

“Agent Gibbs was down here earlier.  He asked Dr Mallard if he’d seen you and then he asked if he believed in magic.”

“Damn,” said Tony.


	4. Chapter 4

“Ah,” said Faith Coleman, when Tony was once more sitting in Craig’s office, “We’ve come up with a plan.”

“You have?” asked Tony.

“You’re going on vacation,” said Craig.

“I am?  That’s … nice …”

“Not really, of course,” said Faith briskly.

“Oh.”

“We thought a retrospective request for vacation time for you will explain your absence from the office,” said Jerome.  He pointed to a completed leave request form.  “A family emergency.  It will explain your sudden _departure_ and will, hopefully, minimise the number of FMIs required.”

“Forgetful Mind Implementations,” said Tony helpfully.  He received a cool look from the Commander who, clearly, was well versed in Additional Power acronyms.  “Um, good thinking,” he said.

“We have obtained security footage of what happened in the lab when you were … attacked,” said Jerome.

“You hacked in?” asked Tony, “How many forms will you have to fill for that?”

“None,” said Jerome stiffly, “As Deputy Director I have full security access.”

“And what did it show up?” asked Tony.

“The footage of the _attack_ is unclear,” said Faith, “But I must say you reacted very quickly.”

“I’m an athlete,” said Tony smugly, “Trained to react.  My instincts are as finely honed as …”

“But,” Faith swept on, “We were able to see that Agent Gibbs arrived shortly after your departure.”

“Jimmy said that he’d asked Ducky if he’d seen me,” said Tony, “And that he asked Ducky if he believed in magic.”

“We were able to listen to the conversation between Agent Gibbs and Miss Sciuto,” said Jerome.  “Here …”

Tony listened to the recording, “So, you think we need to find this Azaria person?”

“Yes.  However, we don’t think we should be the ones to approach her …”

“What?” demanded Tony.

“Not directly, anyway,” said Faith, “We don’t want her to think that anyone with Additional Powers is involved.  We’ve decided it would be better for someone else to go see her – perhaps with the suggestion that a fraud had been committed by selling Miss Sciuto a failed spell.”

“Huh, I guess that makes sense.  And given how nasty whatever it was she sold Abby … maybe I don’t want to be within chanting distance of her.”

Jerome frowned, “It’s interesting.  We listened to the recording of Abby’s _chanting_ … and …”

“And?” prompted Tony.

“It didn’t make sense.”

“How so?”

“It seemed to be a mishmash of voodoo terms, Esperanto and Pidgin English.”

“You know Esperanto?” asked Tony.

“I go to an evening class every third Tuesday,” said Jerome a little stiffly.

Tony decided not to ask about Pidgin English.  “So, what’s the plan?”

“We’ll get Agent Gibbs to investigate,” said Faith.

“OK,” said Tony.  “And how do we listen in to what he finds out?” He cast an eye towards the Deputy Director’s heap of forms, wondering which ones related to eavesdropping.

“Ah,” said Jerome, “That’s where you come in.”

“I’m guessing that’s why I’m not actually going on vacation?”

“Yes,” said Faith, “You’re going to talk to Gibbs and explain why he needs to investigate what happened.”

“And how do I do that?  Given that he thinks that Abby thinks I got changed into some blue bird?”

“You were right,” said Jerome helpfully, “It was a blue parakeet.”

Faith sniffed impatiently at this digression, “You tell him about the Additional Powers.”

“What?  But we don’t tell _anyone_ about APs … unless we think they have them.  Do we think that Gibbs has them?”

“No, and you know it’s too late for him.  We think, for him to investigate properly – and safely – he needs to know some at least of what’s at stake,” replied Faith.

“And you want _me_ to tell him?” asked Tony still trying to come to terms with this breaking of a code of silence.

“Yes.  If possible, it would be good to limit his knowledge to _you_ having APs.  And we know that Gibbs is unlikely to _chatter_ carelessly about this,” said Faith.

“I guess,” said Tony doubtfully.  “And I’m guessing that an FMI might be applied for when it’s all over?”

“Already completed and ready to be submitted,” said Jerome.

“Are we going to let Gibbs go it alone?” asked Tony.  “’Cos we don’t know what he’ll be walking in to.”

“No, you’ll accompany him.  Discreetly,” said Jerome.

“You mean, I’m gonna change into something?  And watch …”

“From a distance,” said Faith firmly, “We don’t know how good Azaria’s detection is.”

“Aww, I didn’t know you cared,” said Tony clasping his hand over his heart.

“Well,” said Faith a little dubiously, “Jerome doesn’t want to complete the forms if you don’t return.”

Tony stared at her in outrage and then decided he spotted a twinkle in her eye.  “Where is El Jefe?” he asked.

“Gone home,” said Jerome.

“Gone home?  When he thinks I’ve been turned into a bird and gone missing?”

“He’s been given your leave request,” explained Faith, “And he’s puzzled, so he’s gone home to think about it.  He’s tried calling you on your cell …”

Tony took his cell out of his pocket and looked at it, “I haven’t missed any calls.”

Jerome held up a grey form, “BCA3.”

“BCA3?” asked Tony.

“Blocked Communication Authorisation,” said Jerome.  “Gibbs’ cell isn’t ‘working’ at the moment.  And because neither you nor McGee is around he hasn’t got anyone to _reboot_ it.”

“Are we sure this is what our ancestors had in mind?” asked Tony pointing to the form.  He seemed to realise the question was being taken as rhetorical, so he stood up, “Mind if I open the window?  I guess I’m flying again.”

NCISNCIS

Gibbs poured a healthy slug of bourbon into his coffee and pondered the strange events of the day.  He was inclined to dismiss Abby’s account of turning Tony into a bird: at the time it had felt real but once he left her, common sense had asserted itself.  What almost seemed stranger was Tony’s request for leave.  Gibbs couldn’t understand why Tony hadn’t simply asked him face to face especially if there was a family emergency; and what kind of family emergency could DiNozzo have?  There was definitely something _hinky_ going on, but Gibbs couldn’t decide where the hinkiness lay.

Gibbs had just picked up a sandpaper block to begin work on his latest project when he heard footsteps on his stairs and then saw his missing agent walking towards him.

Relief warred with irritation at having been worried, “Didn’t hear the door open,” Gibbs said.

“Didn’t use the door,” said Tony honestly, “Came through a window instead.”

“Why the hell did you come through a window?” asked Gibbs. “And what’s going on with this damn leave request?  Is it Senior?”

“Does it matter?” asked Tony.

“And where the hell have you been?  Did you and Abby cook up some stupid story to cover you being missing?”

“No.  And it wasn’t a stupid story.”

“What?  You saying that Abby turned you into a bird?” demanded Gibbs.

Tony scratched his head, “This is going to be hard for you to understand.”

“Does it involve computers?” asked Gibbs suspiciously.

“No.”

“Or some new-fangled technology?”

“No.”

“Then I’ll be fine,” said Gibbs confidently.

Tony laughed.  “I might remind you of that in a few minutes.”

“Get on with it, DiNozzo.  I’ve wasted enough time today already.”

Tony cleared his throat, “I’ve got Additional Powers.”

“What?  Is that some new movie that’s come out?  I’m not interested.”

Tony virtuously resisted the temptation to go on an Austin Powers tangent, “No.  It’s not a movie.  I guess some people would call it magic, but we try not to use that word anymore.”

“We?”

“Other people with APs.”

It was Gibbs’ turn to laugh, “OK, you’ve made me laugh.  So, I guess Abby was wrong, I do get pranked.  Forget about it, just be in the squad room at 0700 tomorrow.”

“I guess I’ll have to demonstrate,” said Tony.

Gibbs stared at him and then saw something like a mini tornado whipping up the sawdust from his workbench.  When the dust settled, Gibbs saw a giraffe standing in front of him with its head lowered to avoid hitting the ceiling.  As Gibbs’ mouth fell open, there was another tornado and this time, a polar bear cub was sitting on the work bench.

Ten seconds passed in which Gibbs was speechless and then there was a popping sound and Tony was revealed sitting on the bench.  He rubbed his head ruefully, “Forgot how tall giraffes are,” he said as if this would be the thing on Gibbs’ mind.  “Went for a cub rather than full-grown,” he continued, “Wasn’t sure how much weight the table would take.”

Gibbs continued to stare at Tony.

“Wow, I’m thirsty,” gasped Tony.  He grabbed Gibbs’ mug and swallowed the contents in one gulp.  He seemed to notice Gibbs’ bemusement, “It’s a lot to take in,” he agreed.  He handed the mug back, “I guess you might need a refill.”

“You can do _that_?” asked Gibbs as he made an expressive gesture with his hands indicating the height of a giraffe.

“Yes.”

“So you _were_ playing some sort of joke?  Did you change into a bird to fool Abby?”

“Not exactly,” hedged Tony.

“Then what?”

“She turned me into a blue parakeet …”

“ _Abby_ can do magic?”

“No.  At least, she shouldn’t be able to … but she did, and I changed into something else in order to get away,” said Tony.

Gibbs sat down heavily.  “I don’t understand.”

“I can’t tell you much,” said Tony, “But we need your help to find out how Abby managed to do it.”

“ _We_?”

“Yes.”

“There’s more of you?”

“Yes?”

“At NCIS?”

“Among other places, yes.”

“Ducky,” said Gibbs as he suddenly saw a reason for Ducky’s brusqueness earlier in the day.

“Well …” said Tony before suddenly swaying and going pale.

“What’s going on?” asked Gibbs in alarm.

“Don’t feel so good,” said Tony, grabbing hold of the bench.  There was another whirl of wind and he turned into a fox cub, then an owl followed by a rabbit, a Basset Hound and an antelope in quick succession.  Tony himself briefly reappeared and gasped, “Help!” before collapsing on to the floor as a chinchilla.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Gibbs stared in disbelief at the chinchilla lying on his basement floor; as he watched he saw what looked like a bird of prey emerging.  He dropped on his knees beside Tony and tried to cudgel his bewildered brain into action: the problem was he couldn’t think what he should be doing – should he be phoning for an ambulance or for a veterinarian and how on earth could he explain a situation he didn’t understand himself?

As he watched, he heard footsteps running down the stairs.  He looked up and saw Jimmy Palmer striding towards him.

“What you doing here, Palmer?” he demanded.  He hurried on, not waiting for an answer, “Doesn’t matter, call Ducky!”  Gibbs was used to reaching out to Abby or Ducky when something was beyond his experience.

“Dr Mallard can’t help,” said Jimmy.  He knelt down next to Tony.

“What do you mean, he can’t help?”

“As I said, he can’t help.  Not with this,” replied Jimmy.  He bent over the bird, “Tony …”

“How do you know it’s DiNozzo?” asked Gibbs suspiciously.

Palmer took a second to look at Gibbs sternly.  It was not a look that Gibbs was used to seeing on the face of Ducky’s bumbling assistant.  Jimmy didn’t reply directly to Gibbs but, instead, put a hand on the bird’s wing, “Thought you said it was a bit of a cliché turning into a merlin,” he said teasingly.

Gibbs was still hugely puzzled but was relieved to see that Jimmy’s touch seemed to calm the falcon.  “What do you mean, cliché?” he asked.

“Agent Gibbs, I’m sure this is … bewildering … and that you have lots of questions, but could we save them for later?” said Jimmy.

“You know about … _this_?” asked Gibbs.

Palmer nodded.  At that moment, more steps were heard, and Gibbs looked up to see Deputy Director Craig coming down the stairs.  Gibbs groaned,

“Deputy Director, this isn’t a good time,” he said, “I’ll talk over your suggestions for streamlining evidence collation tomorrow …”

Gibbs was accustomed to being obeyed so it was particularly shocking to be ignored in his own basement.

“Not now,” said Craig curtly.  He stood next to Palmer, “How is he?”

“ _You_ know about this?” demanded Gibbs.

Craig looked up with an irritated look on his face, “I would have thought that was obvious, Agent Gibbs.  Now, let Palmer work.”

“I’m going to call Ducky,” said Gibbs.

“And tell him what?” asked Craig.

“To come and see to DiNozzo.”

“No,” said Jerome.

“No?!”

“No.”

“That’s good, Tony,” came Jimmy’s voice.

Gibbs looked down and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that it was now Tony in human form lying on the floor.

“We’re here.  Jerome, would you mind putting your hand on Tony’s shoulder?  Don’t let go.”

Gibbs reached out automatically to put his own hand on Tony, but Jimmy batted it away, “I’m sorry, Agent Gibbs.  It’s best if the Deputy Director does it.”

Gibbs blinked at the commanding note in Palmer’s voice and filed that away for future consideration along with his addressing Craig by his first name.

“What happened?” came another voice from a visitor who had arrived so quietly that even Gibbs’ excellent hearing had missed it.

“Commander Coleman?  What are you doing here?” he asked.  There had been something of a spark between Gibbs and the JAG commander during their previous meetings, but he felt she was choosing an inopportune time to follow up on that.

“Agent Gibbs,” she said, “Good evening.”

Gibbs felt a measure of control returning as someone finally acknowledged his presence politely, “I don’t think this is a good time, Commander,” he replied, “I’ll call you.”

“I’m sorry for the intrusion,” she continued, “This isn’t how we intended things to pan out …”

“You know about this … whatever _this_ is?” asked Gibbs.

“Of course.  Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to find out what’s been going on.  How is he?” she asked Palmer.

“I think the changing has stopped,” said Palmer hopefully, “But I think one of us should continue to anchor him for the time being.”

“Of course,” said Faith.  She turned to Gibbs, “Agent Gibbs, can you tell me what happened here?”

“Excuse me?  You want _me_ to explain to _you_ what’s going on?” hissed Gibbs.

“No,” said Faith calmly, “I don’t expect you to be able to _explain_ but it would be helpful to know the sequence of events.”

“You mean apart from DiNozzo showing up with some cockamamie story about alternative powers …”

“Additional Powers,” corrected Jerome absently.

Gibbs paused to glare at him, “And then turning into a giraffe and a polar bear cub!  That’s what you want to hear about?  Well, I tell you I’m getting pretty tired of all this …”

“And then what happened?” asked Faith.  “Please, it could be important.”

“I don’t know, he went pale, staggered and then started changing into a whole load of animals.  Then he collapsed,” said Gibbs.  “Now, are you going to tell me what’s going on or not?”

“Not,” said Craig, “Or at least, not quite yet.  We need to find out what happened to Tony.”

“Er, Agent Gibbs, did Tony have anything to drink?”  Jimmy looked at Faith and Craig, “This could be caused by dehydration.”

“No,” said Gibbs, “No, wait a minute, he grabbed my coffee mug and swallowed it all.”

“Oh,” said Palmer, as his face fell.  “I guess your coffee is pretty strong … but it shouldn’t have caused this.”

“Was there anything else in the coffee?” asked Faith.

“I-I-d just put a slug of bourbon in it,” remembered Gibbs.

“Jimmy?” asked Jerome.

“That could cause a reaction,” said Jimmy, “Alcohol is not recommended after an animal change.  And especially as Tony has already done a lot of changes today.”

“You think that’s what caused this?” asked Faith.

“It might have.  It’s a rare condition that we don’t know much about.  I’ll take a blood sample.  Sorry, Tony,” he said to Tony who was beginning to stir on the floor.

Jimmy produced a needle from an inside pocket and proceeded to take a sample.  As he finished, Gibbs heard a cooing from the basement window and looked up to see a pigeon perched on the sill.  He sighed, “Another visitor?  Who’s he going to change into?”

“Nobody,” said Jimmy, “It’s a pigeon.”

“But we understand your confusion,” said Jerome kindly.

Jimmy held up his arm and the pigeon flew down and perched on it and allowed Jimmy to tie the sample to its leg.  “Go on,” said Jimmy, “Back to the loft.”

The pigeon flew away through the open window.

“You use homing pigeons?” asked Gibbs.

“Sure, they’re real efficient,” said Jimmy.

“And the loft?”

“Well, pigeons live in lofts,” replied Jimmy.  He seemed to decide that the time was not right for teasing Gibbs and added, “Our medical expert runs a veterinary practice and he’s a pigeon fancier – it fits well.”

“Ducky doesn’t run a veterinary practice,” said Gibbs.

“No,” agreed Jimmy.

“Dr Mallard isn’t our medical expert,” said Faith.

“You’ve all got a lot of explaining to do,” said Gibbs sternly.

Faith looked at Tony who had now managed to sit up; Jerome’s hand was still firmly on his shoulder, “I think we should move somewhere a little more comfortable.  I’m sure Tony would be better off not sitting on the floor.”

Gibbs looked momentarily nonplussed at the notion that his basement wasn’t comfortable but realised that Tony might be better off on his couch than the floor.

“You all right to move?” he asked gruffly, still trying to assert his authority.

Tony nodded a little shakily and Jimmy hastened to help Jerome hoist him to his feet.

“Jerome, make sure you keep hold of him,” he ordered.

A few minutes later, Gibbs stood in front of his fireplace watching as Tony lay propped up on his couch with a glass of water and some cookies; it was now Faith who had her hand on his shoulder.

“OK,” said Gibbs, “Someone had better start clueing me in or …”

“Or what, Agent Gibbs?” asked Jerome with a flash of amusement, “Who are you going to tell?”

For answer, Gibbs simply intensified his glare and Jerome raised his hand in a gesture of surrender, “You’re right, you deserve an explanation.”

“How far did Tony get in his explanation?” asked Faith.

“He said he had _Additional Powers_ and then changed into a giraffe and polar bear cub to demonstrate.”

“Anything else?” asked Jerome.

“Said there were others like him at NCIS.  Which I guess is you three.”

“I’m not NCIS,” said Faith.

“Semantics,” said Gibbs.

“As you have seen, Tony has Additional Powers …” began Jimmy.

“Hey,” said Tony peevishly, “I am here, you know.  Voice in working order, I can speak for myself.”

“You’re supposed to be resting,” said Jimmy severely, “And taking the fluids and nourishment I advised you to take earlier.”

Tony snapped a cookie in half and shoved it in his mouth but, at the last moment, resisted the temptation to eat it with his mouth open.

“How many of you are there?” asked Gibbs.

“That’s not something we can share with you,” said Jerome.  “But the numbers are not large.”

“And you can all do this … morphing … into animals?”

Jerome winced, “We prefer not to use words like _morph_.”

“Why not?”

“We feel that it is best to use simple, everyday words,” said Jerome.

“We want to play down any notion of _mysticism_ or _mystery_ ,” explained Faith.

“You don’t think being able to do magic is mysterious enough?” asked Gibbs.

“And we prefer the term _Additional Powers_ ,” said Jimmy earnestly.

“What?  Why?”

“We don’t want to promote the idea that we are _better_ than other people,” said Tony.  “We’re just human beings who have _Additional Powers_.”

“I don’t understand,” said Gibbs.

“We think it is safer if we keep a low profile,” said Jerome.

“Safer?  Why, are you in some sort of danger?”

“The ability to use Additional Powers has only relatively recently re-merged,” said Faith.

“Is this a long story?” asked Gibbs.

“You mean about the re-emerging?” asked Faith.

“Yeah.”

“Yes,” said Faith.  “Well, it has its origins centuries ago.”

Gibbs made a sudden decision and went with his gut, “But you’re _good_ guys?”

“Yes,” said his four visitors in unison.

“And I’m guessing, as you’re telling me all this … or some stuff anyway… that you need my help?”

“Yes,” said Craig.

“Then let’s cut to the chase.  Tell me what you need me to do and you can fill in the background later.”

“You’re willing to do that?” asked Faith curiously.

It wasn’t Gibbs who answered but Tony, “He’s going with the Gibbs gut – he’s known us all for years and trusted us and he’s gonna carry on doing that.”

“Is that right, Gibbs?” asked Jerome.

“Pretty much,” said Gibbs with a nod of approval to Tony for his insight.

“And you won’t tell anyone?” asked Faith.

Gibbs’ sense of humour asserted itself and he laughed, “Like you said, who’d believe me?”

“Thank you,” said Jerome, “We think it would be best not to tell Miss Sciuto about all this.”

Gibbs winced as he imagined Abby’s reaction to the news about Additional Powers, “Fair enough, but you think that she started all this off?”

“Yes and no,” said Tony.  “She did whatever it was that tried to change me into a blue parakeet … and why did she pick a blue parakeet – does she think that’s what my inner DiNozzo is?”

“Think yourself lucky it wasn’t McGee,” said Gibbs drily, “He’d have gone for a peacock!”

Tony paused momentarily as he considered this, “We don’t think Abby has APs, so the real problem is with Azaria who gave Abby the … whatever it is.”

“Spell?” said Gibbs helpfully but his four visitors grimaced, and Gibbs guessed that _spells_ was another word they didn’t approve of.  “You think this Azaria is a witch?” he asked with a hint of mischief.

“Another word we don’t care to use,” said Faith.

“But you’re worried about this Azaria?  But couldn’t she just be like you … someone with these extra powers?”

“She could be,” agreed Tony, “But whatever it was that tried to change me had a nasty overtone … it didn’t feel like something one of us would do.”

“And that’s what worries us,” said Faith, “That there might be something malign out there beyond our experience.”

“So,” said Jerome with what Gibbs thought was misplaced cheerfulness, “We want you to go see her and see if you can find out what’s going on.”

“You do?” asked Gibbs.

“I’ll be going with you,” said Tony.  “In disguise, so to speak.”

“Only if you’re better tomorrow,” said Jimmy, “And agree not to do multiple changes.”

Tony looked as if he wanted to argue but opening his mouth to speak turned into a huge yawn and he settled for nodding instead.

“Agent Gibbs,” said Craig briskly, “We’ll all stay here the night.  Order some takeout.  We need to monitor Tony and keep him anchored.  And we can use the time to discuss what to do next.”  He paused and then added as an afterthought, “If that’s OK with you, of course?”

Gibbs shrugged; he felt surprisingly settled considering his world had just been rocked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rocketscientists suggested calling Tony’s ‘condition’ Multiple Morphing Syndrome – which was a great idea but which, for the reason shown in this chapter, I couldn’t use … but Gibbs was obviously more on board with the idea! Thank you for the suggestion.


	6. Chapter 6

Gibbs went to work next day conscious of being shadowed by a house sparrow.  There had been some discussion about the form Tony should assume and the house sparrow had been settled on: for some reason Tony had taken violently against a suggestion of a blue jay; he seemed to have gone off the colour blue.  Tony was under strict instructions not to change into any other animal; there had been no recurrence of the multiple changes of the previous day, but Jimmy was still uneasy.

Gibbs went straight to Abby’s lab, still trying to work out how to talk to her about her dealings with Azaria without raising any alarm bells with her.  He found her forlornly clutching a bottle of sparkling water.

“Abs?” he said.

“Gibbs!” she sprang up excitedly and gave him a hug.

“Water?” he asked, gesturing towards the bottle.

“Yes.  Deputy Director Craig came to see me yesterday.  He could see I was a bit … agitated after what I thought happened.”

“ _Thought?”_ said Gibbs cautiously.

“Yes.  He was worried about the number of CafPows I drink … and I didn’t tell him what had happened, but he mentioned that he knew someone who’d had – not exactly hallucinations, but things got mixed up because they’d had too much caffeine.  It made me think.”

“Yeah?”

“’Cos he mentioned that Tony had gone off on leave yesterday morning.  So I figure it can’t have been Tony that I tried to turn into a blue parakeet … and that maybe it was all some CafPow induced sort of dream.”

“So you’ve switched to water?”

“Yeah, I think it’s for the best,” said Abby wistfully.

Gibbs found himself impressed by Jerome’s work; he had skilfully managed to sow seeds of doubt in Abby’s mind _and_ got her to swear off CafPows which would be both good for Abby’s body and Gibbs’ wallet.

“I guess,” said Gibbs casually.  It said something for the way that Abby’s brain worked without caffeine that she didn’t pick up on Gibbs’ tone.  “So, this Azaria,” he continued, “Did she really sell you some sort of spell?”

“Yes, although she wasn’t keen on calling it a spell,” said Abby thoughtfully, “But I figured she was didn’t want to get accused of selling something under false pretences.”

“You didn’t think it would work then?”

“I guess a little teeny-weeny bit of me wanted to believe,” said Abby honestly, “But no, I didn’t think it would work.  I felt sorry for her and it was a way of giving her some money.”

“And she’s a recovering drug addict?”

“Well, I’m not sure.  She’s always there but she seems to help out, so I think she may just be a volunteer like me … or perhaps she just comes in because it’s nice and warm there and she hasn’t got a nice place to live.”

“So, you don’t know where she lives?”

“No.  Why are you so interested in her, Gibbs?”

“I figure I’d like to make sure that she doesn’t sell any of these things to other people.  You know, people who aren’t as scientific as you, Abs.”

“Well …”

“She could get into trouble,” said Gibbs trying another tack, “You wouldn’t want that to happen, would you, Abs?”

Abby hugged Gibbs in remorse, “I’m sorry!  I shouldn’t have doubted you!  You’re right, someone should talk to her, warn her.  I could do it …”

Gibbs looked around her lab, “Looks like you’re up to your eyes in things here, Abs.”

“I am,” said Abby, “Deputy Director Craig wanted me to go over the evidence for the last ten cases.”

“Why?”

“I’m not sure,” admitted Abby, “It made sense when he told me … I think it’s some sort of audit … or he’s got an idea about new ways of organising things and he wants to check which method would work best.  It’s going to take _days_.”

Gibbs’ admiration for the Deputy Director went up another notch.

“I’ll do it then,” he said.  “With my team all out for a few days, I won’t be working any new cases.”

“Oh, thank you, Gibbs!” said Abby.  “You will be kind to her, won’t you?”

“You know me,” said Gibbs blandly.

“Yes, I do,” said Abby, “You’re a real pussy cat!”

“Where’s this place you met her?  What time’s she likely to be there?”

Abby gave him directions and said that she would likely be there around lunchtime as she liked the free soup they served.  “In fact, anytime when they serve food would be a good time.”

Gibbs kissed her cheek in farewell and, feeling guilty that she had both been given a pile of busywork _and_ a caffeine ban, handed her the CafPow he had brought her, “Don’t think just one will hurt, Abs.  And it’s probably best to ease into these things gradually.”

He left her happily slurping her drink and beginning on all her tasks.

NCISNCIS

Gibbs strode into the café area of the St Wilhelmina Support centre around lunch time.  He was immediately offered a mug of coffee and, when he asked if Azaria was in that day, was directed to a woman sitting by a window enjoying a bowl of soup.

As Gibbs approached, he saw that there was a large bush outside the window and he thought he could see a sparrow perched on one of its branches.

“Hi,” said Azaria as she saw Gibbs coming near.  “Is this your first time?  I haven’t seen you before.  My name’s Azaria.”

Gibbs gazed at her and decided that, if someone wanted to cast someone as a typically fey, eccentric middle-aged woman they could do no better than select Azaria.  She had long slightly frizzy greying red hair, wire spectacles, dangly earrings, multiple strings of beads worn over layers of patchwork and batik skirts and tops.  Her eyes, however, were sharp.

“Yes,” said Gibbs, “My friend Abby recommended it.”

“Do you have a … problem?” probed Azaria gently.

“I-I sometimes drink too much,” said Gibbs.

“They’ll be able to help you here,” said Azaria, “They’re wonderful people.”

“And you, are you a volunteer or a …” Gibbs searched for the right word.

“Participant,” supplied Azaria.  “I’m not either really.  I like to be here – it’s so warm and welcoming, and my apartment is … well, not so nice.  And I’ve had problems in the past; not addiction as such but … well …” she trailed off.

“Abby mentioned that she’d bought something off you,” said Gibbs casually.

“Does she want her money back?” asked Azaria sharply.

“No,” said Gibbs peacefully, “I was just making conversation.”  He could only hope that Abby had never mentioned him to Azaria otherwise the idea of the ‘functional mute’ making conversation would immediately raise the alarm.

Gibbs took a swallow of coffee as he considered his strategy but, before he could speak, he heard an angry tweet and a gust of wind and saw a young cat squeeze through the window and proceed to jump on his lap.

“She likes you!” said Azaria.

“Damn!” said Gibbs.  He looked out of the window but couldn’t see any birds in the bush.  He realised that either Tony needed to talk to him or the uncontrollable changing had started again.  He grabbed the cat and walked quickly to the door ignoring Azaria’s pleas for him to look after the sweet little kitty.

The cat sat placidly in Gibbs’ arms and then, once they were in his car, began to knead his legs in the way cats do in preparation for going to sleep.

“Cut it out, DiNozzo!” said Gibbs.  He managed to move the animal in to the passenger seat.  He looked around, “There’s no one coming.  You can change back now.”  The cat looked at him and began to wash itself.

Gibbs sighed and decided it would be best to head back home, he considered calling Jerome or Jimmy but decided that they all seemed to know when one of their own was in trouble.  Gibbs spent the journey alternating between commanding and cajoling Tony to return to human form, but the cat was stubborn and, in final disdain, settled down to sleep.

Gibbs screeched to a halt outside his house and scooped up the cat who meowed indignantly at being disturbed but settled down quickly and allowed Gibbs to carry it into the house.  Once inside the front door, Gibbs placed the cat on the floor and said,

“Come on, change back, DiNozzo.”

The cat looked around curiously and then padded towards the couch.  It sharpened its claws on one of the legs but desisted quickly when Gibbs barked, “Hey!”  The cat then jumped on to the couch, walked to the least lumpy part and settled down.

Gibbs looked around, puzzled – and a little irritated – that Tony’s fellow Additional Power friends hadn’t shown up.  “Last chance,” he warned, “I’m calling for reinforcements.”

For answer, the cat jumped down from its perch and began to weave around Gibbs’ legs, purring loudly.

“Hey, quit doing that,” said a flustered Gibbs.

At that moment he saw out of the corner of his eye, a swirl of leaves in his back yard and, a moment or two later, Tony strode in.  Gibbs would have denied it, but an independent observer would have confirmed that Gibbs gaped: he looked at Tony, then at the cat and then back again,

“What?” he finally managed.

“What are you doing?” demanded Tony breathlessly.  “I’d just got to the drugs place when you upped and left.”

“What do you mean, you’d only just got there?” asked Gibbs.

“How fast do you think a house sparrow can fly?” asked Tony.  “You were driving at Gibbs speed and I was going against the wind.  No sooner had I landed then I saw you marching out with a cat under your arm.”

“But I saw you”, protested Gibbs, “In the tree.”

“Another sparrow flew away just I got there,” corrected Tony, “Probably scared off by _that_ ,” he pointed crossly to the cat.

“You mean you didn’t change into a cat?” asked Gibbs.

“No!” snapped Tony.

Gibbs glared at Tony and then the absurdity of the situation hit him, and he burst out laughing.  Tony tried to replicate Gibbs’ glare, but his own sense of humour kicked in and he started laughing too. 

Tony sat tiredly on the couch and the cat jumped up after him.

“I’ll go get you something to drink,” said Gibbs remembering that Jimmy had said that hydration was important after a change.

By the time Gibbs got back, the cat was happily licking Tony’s hand in between washing his own hind leg, “You know what,” said Tony happily, “You’re pretty cool for a crime scene wrecking cat, Bruce.”

“Bruce?” queried Gibbs as he handed Tony a glass of water.

“Sure, why not?”

Gibbs shrugged but then had a worrying thought, “Hey, how do we know the cat isn’t … well, one of you?”

Tony shook his head as he stroked _Bruce_ , “Nah, I’d know.  This is just one mischievous moggie.”

“Not sure I should trust you on this, DiNozzo,” said Gibbs drily.

“Huh?”

“Don’t know many women called _Bruce_.”

“Huh?” said Tony again.

“That’s a _lady_ cat, Tony.”


	7. Chapter 7

Tony dozed on the couch. ‘Bruce’ happily snuggled up to him but with an ear cocked lest Gibbs make a move towards the kitchen and a can opener.

In other circumstances, Gibbs might have relied on Tony’s instincts about Bruce, but the Gibbs’ _gut_ wasn’t used to assessing Additional Powers.  He decided to call Deputy Director Craig for assistance and he agreed to come once he was out of a finance meeting.  Gibbs tried to be reassured that Jerome didn’t seem unduly concerned and was, he suspected, trying not to laugh.

It wasn’t long, however, before Jerome and Jimmy arrived at Gibbs’ house.

“Is this _Bruce_?” asked Jerome.

Gibbs wanted to ask who else he thought might be Bruce but bit his lip instead.  Jerome picked the cat up and stared into her eyes,

“No, she’s a cat,” he announced.  “Tony was right.”  He returned the cat to Tony.

“Those Additional Powers sure come in handy,” observed Gibbs.

“What did Azaria say?” asked Jimmy deciding to forestall any possible arguments.

“Not much.  Wasn’t time for any real conversation,” replied Gibbs.  “Good work with Abby, by the way, Deputy Director.”

Jerome nodded modestly.  “You going to go back and talk to Azaria?” he asked.

“Not today,” said Jimmy firmly.

“I can go back,” protested Gibbs.

“You might be able to, but I don’t think Tony should go back.  We said he’d only do one change today.  And he’s done it.”

“I’m fine,” protested Tony who had woken up when Bruce had been lifted off his lap.

“I haven’t had the blood test results back,” said Jimmy, “Until then, I’d be happier …”

“Sticking to protocol,” yawned Tony.

“Yes,” said Jimmy.

“You’re beginning to sound like a cross between Gibbs and Ducky,” complained Tony.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” said Jimmy, refusing Tony’s challenge.

“I’ll head back to the Navy Yard,” said Jerome.  “Gibbs, don’t go back to see Azaria.  We don’t know what’s going on and I’d be happier if you didn’t go alone.”

“I’ll come back with you.” said Jimmy, “Tony, take it easy the rest of the day.  Make sure you keep eating and drinking.  We’ll be back later today.”

With that, Jimmy and Jerome left: Gibbs wondered when it was that he’d agreed to Tony staying with him and everyone coming back that night.  Then he shrugged, he prided himself on always knowing which battles to fight and which, like this one, were apparently lost causes.

“I’ll make us something to eat,” he announced.

“Oomph,” said Tony.

“What?” asked Gibbs, “Oh …” he added when he saw that Bruce had kicked off from Tony’s stomach with great energy.  The cat marched impatiently to the kitchen and then, perhaps thinking this was impolite, returned to wind around Gibbs’ legs affectionately.

A vegetarian cat might have got slim pickings from Gibbs’ kitchen, but a carnivore did well, and Bruce was soon tucking into a saucer of ground beef.  Gibbs prudently left the back door open to allow the cat to take a toilet break later on: he didn’t mind feeding a cat but didn’t want to set up a litter tray as well.

“So,” said Gibbs when his immediate pangs of hunger had been satisfied, “Commander Coleman said the story about Additional Powers was a long one.”

“Yeah.”

“We got time.  Tell me,” ordered Gibbs.

“You’ve heard the stories of _witches_ being persecuted,” said Tony.

“Sure.  Not recently though.  And I thought you didn’t like the word _witch._ ”

“I don’t – we don’t.  Anyway, in some parts of the world, it got really bad.  End of the 1600s especially.  And it was decided …”

“By who?”

“By us … well, by the people who had APs back then … that they would suppress them.”

“Suppress them?”

“They decided it would be safer.  People were being burned and tortured.  And sometimes, often, it wasn’t people who had APs but people who got caught up in it.  So, they decided they’d stop people having APs in future.”

“Why didn’t they use their _APs_ to protect themselves?” asked Gibbs.

Tony frowned, “We’re not sure but we don’t think our APs work quite that way.”

“Why don’t you know?” asked Gibbs in surprise.

“Listen to the rest of the story,” said Tony.  “Like I said, our forebears decided to suppress APs being passed on … or, at least, becoming active.  It took a while for them to die out because the people who already had them could carry on using them.  But they also thought that they didn’t want the APs to die out completely.  So, as far as we know, they decided they would let them re-emerge later.”

“And how did they do all this?”

“We don’t know.  Remember, these people had had APs for centuries.  They had a whole history of using them and understanding them.  We think they were much more powerful about what they meant. They were capable of doing much more than us.”

“OK.  So, when did they start springing out again?”

“We think they set a target of 300 years, so just a couple of years ago.”

“You _think_?”

“As far as we can tell.  That’s when people in the US started having APs again.  And we think that’s when people in Europe got them too.”

“And who got them?”

“You mean, is it hereditary?”

“Is it?”

“We don’t know.  We think so … to some extent but the couple of scientists we’ve got working on it can’t see anything genetically different between those who have them and those who don’t.  And we don’t think that APs show until someone is in their twenties, so we don’t _know_ if anyone has passed them on yet.”

“But you really don’t know any of this?” asked Gibbs, absentmindedly stroking Bruce who had returned from an exploration of his yard.

“We know some things,” said Tony.  “Some of the families centuries ago, those who were perhaps leaders of the _magical_ community did write some information down.  And some of the knowledge was passed on verbally through the generations but …”

“But what?”

“Well, hundreds of years passed, and the powers didn’t re-emerge, so people began to think it was all a fairy tale … well, you understand that, don’t you?”

“Is that what happened to you?”

Tony frowned, “Kinda.”

“Your Mom?”

“I can’t remember,” confessed Tony, “I have a vague memory of her telling me stories about people who could do unusual things, but she told me lots of stories … and they all kinda merge together.  When I visited Uncle Clive in England, he had some stories like that, but I figured he was talking more about family honour than anything else.  And besides, I was 17 – I didn’t want to hear things like that.”

“Your Dad then?”

“Well, not Senior.  It’s not his sort of thing,” grimaced Tony, “But Nonno DiNozzo had more detail, he believed in it.”

“And did you believe it?”

“Not at the time.  But when I began to realise I could do things I couldn’t do before … well, it made sense.”

“How so?”

“Well, it seems that our ancestors decided that people wouldn’t fully become aware of their powers unless there were people around them who had the same thing: it was a sort of protection because it would be scary to try and work it out on your own.”

“Who did you know?”

“Didn’t know him personally before but a few months after Jerome became Deputy Director, I bumped into him and we both kinda knew at the same time.  Turns out that his family was like mine, passing on the stories but not really believing them.  It needed us to meet to sort … of draw the powers out.  Sounds lame, I know but that’s how it was.”

“And you joined up?”

 “Sort of.  We know it’s better to form small cells … communities to support one another.”

“And you know when you meet someone else with … APs?”

“Usually, yes.”

“And you’re all trying to work out what it all means?”

“Yes.  Faith is trying to draw up a structure to regulate us.  Jerome is good at co-ordinating, working with people.  Jimmy is good at working with what our powers might mean.”

“And you?”

“Oh, I’m just me but I’m working on the puzzle of it all.”

“Can they all change into different animals?”

“In theory.  It was something I was interested in, so I’ve practised it more.”

“And they got here quick the other night,” said Gibbs.  “How does that work?”

“We don’t know exactly,” said Tony.  “When someone we know is in trouble, we just seem to be able to get there … it would be useful to work that one out.”

Gibbs thought that was an understatement but before he could say so, an old memory resurfaced, “You know, I remember Jackson talking about something like this.  Stories his great granny told him …”

“Ah,” said Tony looking completely unsurprised.

“What?” asked Gibbs.

“Well, your _gut_ and your sniper skills … might indicate that you could have APs.  Sometimes it seems that people with one or two exceptional skills might have them as a sort of residue … aftereffect of them.  But …”

“You don’t know,” said Gibbs.

“You’re catching on.”

“So, I might develop APs?” asked Gibbs with a mixture of hope and fear.

“No,” said Tony firmly.

“No?”

“No.”

“So, everything else you don’t know, but this you do?”

“One of the surviving documents states that only people aged 50 or younger at the time of the _suppression_ being lifted would have APs.  Sorry, Boss, but you’re too old.”

“Oh,” said Gibbs.

“I think it was trying to protect people,” said Tony, “In the late 1600s life expectancy was lower.  I guess they figured that people much over 50 might not be able to cope with the new powers.  I mean, I know _you_ could cope, Boss …”

“Not sure I’d know what to do with them anyway,” said Gibbs.  “Especially seeing the amount of trouble you get in to with them.”

“Thanks, Boss!”

“So, how are you trying to figure things out?”

“Quietly!  We don’t want to draw attention to this at the moment.  Well, you can imagine what the _bad guys_ might want to do.”

Gibbs nodded.

“I’m trying to track down anything written down.  If we could find something written at the time, it would be great.  Our ancestors seemed to have decided on a long time lag so I figure they must have made some sort of record of what to do.  I did wonder …”

“What?  I don’t think Jackson had anything.  And if he did, it’s gone now.”

“No.  No, I wondered about Ducky.  APs were strong in Scotland at the time and his seems to be the sort of family which would keep records.”

“Makes sense,” said Gibbs, “Or, at least, as much sense as any of this makes.  Have you asked him?”

“I’ve tried to … in a roundabout way but you know Ducky, he can be elusive when he wants to be.  Talks a lot without necessarily saying anything.”

“Pot, kettle, black,” muttered Gibbs.  “He seemed pretty hostile to the whole idea,” he remembered, “When I asked him the other day if he believed in magic.”

“Yeah, I picked up on that,” agreed Tony.  “Anyway, Jimmy is there most of the time.  He’ll figure it out.”

At that moment, Gibbs’ cell rang.

“Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs!” said Abby.

“Abs, I thought you were off the CafPows,” said Gibbs.

“I’ve only had one … well, one whole one,” said Abby.  “No, I’m not excited because of CafPows … in fact, this is really cool because it looks as if I can get excited even when I don’t drink them …”

Gibbs wasn’t sure whether or not this was good news but settled for saying, “What you want, Abs?”

“World peace, people to be nice to one another, a cure for …”

“Abs!  Why have you called me?”

“Well, I always like to talk to you, Gibbs.  And I’m lonely here without any of the musketeers …”

“Abs!”

“I had a brainwave.  About Azaria!”

“Abs?”

“I remembered that she knows Ducky!  She told me that she’s had some really good conversations with Ducky about wishing she had _powers_.  And Ducky’s been real helpful.  And I knew you were busy … I mean, I know you said you had time but …”

“Abby?  What did you do?”

“I told Ducky about Azaria giving me the spell.  And he’s going to go and talk to her about it.  You know, I think he knew about it already … Gibbs?”

But Gibbs had hung up.  “Ducky knows Azaria,” he told Tony.  “And he’s been _helping_ her.”


	8. Chapter 8

“Where you going?” asked Tony when he saw Gibbs grab his keys and head for the door.

“To the Navy Yard, to see Ducky.  See what I can find out about him and Azaria.”

“You can’t,” protested Tony.  “It might be dangerous.”

Gibbs paused and looked at Tony in astonishment, “You think I’m in _danger_?  From _Ducky_?”

“I’ll come with you,” said Tony.

“You can’t,” said Gibbs repeating Tony’s earlier words.  “You’re supposed to be on vacation … and no, you can’t come in animal form.  You know what Palmer said.  You’re only allowed one change a day.”

“I’ll let Jimmy know … or Jerome,” said Tony discontentedly but he was speaking to an empty room and he could already hear the roar of Gibbs’ car pulling away.

NCISNCIS

“Duck,” said Gibbs as he strode into Autopsy.

“Jethro?  I don’t have anything for you, my friend,” said Ducky.  “Surely you haven’t started working a case while you are on your own?  Oh dear, you haven’t started some sort of _crusade_ , have you?  I really feel that this time I should remonstrate with you on this subject … and, if you feel that you must pursue the righting of some wrong, I would implore you _not_ to go lone wolf this time.  I would remind you that it never works out well _and_ that you do have an efficient team on whom you know you can rely.  I know you do not wish to hear this, but you are not getting any younger, Jethro and it may be time to allow others to do the heavy lifting.”

“No case,” said Gibbs when Ducky finally paused for breath.

Ducky seemed unperturbed at having made an unnecessary speech, “Oh?  Well, that’s splendid.  But I fear I must hurry you a little … no time for idle chitchat.”

Gibbs gazed at Ducky in disbelief, “Idle chitchat?  Me?”

“You are quite right, Jethro.  I did not choose my words carefully enough.  I should simply have said that I do not have time at the moment for conversation.”

“You OK, Duck?”

“I am in the peak of physical condition,” said Ducky, “My physician was most satisfied with my blood pressure, cholesterol and weight when I had my check up last week.  But thank you for asking.”

“You seem a little hurried,” said Gibbs.

“Forgive me,” said Ducky a little waspishly, “But I do sometimes have matters other than those pertaining to NCIS which need my attention.”

Gibbs raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, “I know, Duck.  In fact, I think I need to talk to you about one of them.”

“One of what?”

“One of those other matters.”

“Indeed?”

“Azaria,” said Gibbs deciding not to go for the subtle approach – although truthfully, he didn’t know what one would look like.

“Azaria?  How do you know Azaria?”

“It’s more how you know her that’s important, Duck.”

“How so?  How has she come to your attention, Jethro?”

“Abby told me that she sold her a _spell_.”

Ducky tutted, “Yes, so Abby told me.  I have to confess that I was a little sharp with Abby on hearing what she had to tell me.  And I will have to have words with Azaria too.”

“Why?”

“For the same reason, I surmise, that you want to have words with her.”

Gibbs thought this was unlikely but refrained from saying so and stuck to his ‘cover’ story, “She could get into trouble selling spells,” he said.

“Indeed, and it wasn’t hers to sell,” said Ducky.

Gibbs had heard a lot of things which had bemused him in recent hours, but this was almost the most astonishing of all, “You mean …”

“Yes, yes!  It was my spell.”

“But I thought you didn’t believe in magic?”

Ducky glared at Gibbs, “Of course I don’t believe in magic!”

“Then why did you give Azaria a spell?”

Ducky sighed, “Abby met her at the Rehabilitation Centre.  Azaria confided in her that she was interested in _magic_ and thought she had special powers.”

“ _Special_ powers?”

Ducky looked a little confused at Gibbs’ emphasis on _special_ but didn’t comment on it, “Abby was concerned and asked me to talk to her.”

“Why you?”

“Why not?  Abby knows that I have a wide range of interests.  And you will understand that I was approaching the situation from a _psychological_ point of view rather than from an _occult_ standpoint.”

“And did it help?”

Ducky sighed, “No, I fear not.  Logic and reason did not avail so I confess that I resorted to subterfuge.”

“What?”

“Subterfuge.  It means …”

“I know what it means, Duck.  It just seems …”

“Unlikely?  Yes, I fear it was not a worthy stratagem, but I thought it would be simple and effective.”

“So, you gave her a spell?”

Ducky coughed in an embarrassed manner, “I gave her a _spell_ because I believed that she would use it and see that it had failed, and she would come to realise that she did not have the powers she so craves.  I did not expect her to sell the spell to someone else and I confess that I do not understand why she did so.  It is one of the matters I need to speak with her about.  Why, whatever is the matter, Jethro?” Ducky asked as he saw Gibbs staring blankly at him.

Gibbs’ mind was racing as he realised that somehow Ducky had managed to give Azaria a spell which had momentarily, at least, transformed Tony into a blue parakeet.  “Er,” he managed eventually, “Where did you get the spell, Duck?”

“What do you mean, Jethro?”

“Well, you know … did you just make it up.  Was it some sort of quote … isn’t there something in a Shakespeare play about witches making spells?”

“Ah, _eye of newt and toe of frog_ ,” said the knowledgeable Ducky, “And I must say it sounds most unappetising.”

“So?”

“No, it wasn’t a quote.  Actually, Jethro …” Ducky paused, “I trust you will not noise this around the Navy Yard?”  Gibbs shook his head.  “I have in my possession a number of old texts …”

“Old texts?”

“Passed down through the centuries through Mother’s family.  Jethro, my grandmother was a very eccentric lady …”

“Yeah?”

“She believed that she was descended from a long line of people who had once had magic powers.”

“Magic powers?” said Gibbs trying to sound sceptical.

“Yes, you are right to be surprised.  She believed that the powers had been suppressed for many years but would be revived one day.”

“Duck!” said Gibbs in what he hoped was a quizzical tone.

“I know, it seems absurd to anyone who is rational.  However, she treasured the documents _and_ the hope.  She became increasingly bitter when the powers were _not_ revived and knew that her time had passed.  Her efforts concentrated instead on hoping that Mother would, in due time, be granted these powers.  You know, Jethro, I sometimes wonder if that affected my Mother in some way … she herself, did not believe – of course – but her mother’s focus was _disturbing._ ”

“I guess,” said Gibbs.  “Have you still got the books?” he asked casually.

“Indeed.  I have thought about destroying them, but they are beautiful manuscripts and they may be of some academic interest but, you will understand, I have seen what an adverse effect the yearning for supernatural abilities can have, and I am reluctant to share them with anyone.”

“And that’s why you were willing to help Azaria?”

“Yes, I hoped I could reason with her.  Persuade her not to seek after something which is a mere fantasy … not allow her life to be ruined,” said Ducky sadly.  “I hoped I could have special insight into what that obsession could mean.”

“But you couldn’t help her?”

“I fear not which was why I resorted to the simple ruse of supplying her with a spell.”

“Where did she think you got it?”

“I was deliberately vague about that,” said Ducky.  “And I will admit …”

“Admit what?”

“That although I found the spell … incantation, what you will, in one of the documents, I did take the precaution of changing it slightly.  Absurd, I know but I did know a moment of caution.”

“Huh,” said Gibbs, not knowing what else to say.

“And I need to resume my search for her,” said Ducky.

“What?  What do you mean _, resume_ your search?”

“I went to St Wilhelmina’s just before you arrived but was unable to find her,” explained Ducky.

Gibbs put a comforting hand on the doctor’s shoulder, “Why not leave it for now,” he suggested.  “I’ll go find her … it might come better from someone else.  Like you said, you’ve tried your best.”

Ducky looked torn, “Well, if you really think it best?  I must confess, I do not know what else I could say to help the dear girl and I fear I might speak too sharply to her and I would not wish to hurt her.”

“Leave it to me, Duck,” said Gibbs.

“Thank you, Jethro,” said Ducky gratefully.  “I will leave it in your capable hands.”

Gibbs nodded and turned to go but then changed his mind, “So, you were never tempted to believe the family stories?”

“Certainly not!  As I said to you before, I firmly believe that there is a rational explanation for everything in this world.”

NCISNCIS

Somehow, Gibbs wasn’t surprised to find visitors in his house when he returned.  He assumed that Tony’s fellow holders of Additional Powers would have been listening in to the conversation with Ducky and been excited at the news.

It turned out he was wrong.  Jimmy, Commander Coleman and Deputy Director Craig were gathered anxiously around the couch on which Tony still sat.

“The blood test showed an anomaly, Tony,” said Jimmy.  “Dr Brunt is very concerned.”

“What?” asked Gibbs.

“Agent Gibbs,” said Jimmy, “The doctor hasn’t come across anything like it before.  He thinks the power used on Tony was poisoned in some way and he doesn’t know what the effect will be.”

“But there’s a cure?” demanded Gibbs.

“He doesn’t know,” replied Jerome.  “And he’s not sure how to find out.  He’s working on it …” he trailed off doubtfully.

“Great,” said Tony with false cheerfulness, “Isn’t beating one medieval disease enough for one lifetime?”

“We need Ducky,” said Gibbs.                 

“Agent Gibbs,” said Jimmy patiently, “I told you before, Dr Mallard can’t help with this.  It’s not his type of medicine.”

“You weren’t listening, then?” asked Gibbs.

“When?”

“When I was talking with Ducky in Autopsy?”

“No, we came here instead when we got Dr Brunt’s report,” replied Faith.  “Why?”

“It was Ducky’s _spell_ ,” Gibbs decided to ignore their sensibilities over using the word, “It was Ducky’s spell that Azaria used on Tony.”

“ _What_?” came a chorus of disbelief.

“ _And,_ ” continued Gibbs, “He’s got a whole heap of old texts about you people,” he raised a hand to prevent another outburst, “But he still doesn’t believe in magic.  You’ve got your work cut out to persuade him, but I get the feeling he’s your only hope!  DiNozzo’s only hope!”


	9. Chapter 9

“Did he say what sort of documents?” asked Jerome eagerly.

“I didn’t ask too much,” said Gibbs, “Figured it would be out of character for me to start asking about them.  I tried to sound … well, like I would have a few days ago if he’d talked to me about hinky stuff like this.”

“Did he say _anything_?” asked Faith.

“He said he had some old texts.  Passed down from his Mom’s family.  Said his grandmother was really into it and got bitter when the powers didn’t come back.”

“He knew about that?” asked Jimmy.

“No,” said Gibbs sarcastically, “I just made that up!  Look, he didn’t say much except that he had these papers which he thought about destroying …”

“What!” exclaimed Jerome.

“… but decided not to.  He gave Azaria the spell because he assumed it wouldn’t work and it would show her that she didn’t have any special powers.  But he changed it a little.”

“Why?” asked Tony.

Gibbs shrugged, “Don’t think he knows himself.  He’s set on it all being nonsense, but I guess he’s a cautious kind of guy.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” said Tony.

“You think!” snapped Gibbs.

“I mean, I know what you said,” said Tony hastily, “It’s just that, as far as we know, our forebears didn’t need to say spells or use incantations … so why would Ducky have a book of spells?”

“That’s true,” said Faith.  She turned to Gibbs, “Are we sure Dr Mallard is talking about the same Additional Powers?”

“How the hell should I know?” demanded Gibbs, “How many of you are there?  And how many had their powers suppressed?”

“It seems too much of a coincidence,” said Tony, “And we all know how the Boss feels about coincidences.  Maybe the book of spells is a red herring … you know, not linked with the other books.”

“We won’t know until we get a look at them,” said Jerome practically.

“And how do we do that?” asked Jimmy.  “You heard Agent Gibbs, Dr Mallard is hostile to the whole idea of Additional Powers.”

“I think Jimmy’s our best bet,” said Tony.  “I mean, I’m supposed to be away, and Jimmy is the person closest to Ducky.”

“What do you want me to do?” asked Jimmy anxiously.  “I don’t want to break into his house: I don’t think I’d be any good at that.”

“You could suggest that you’re looking into the psychological aspects of magic,” suggested Faith, “You know, as part of your medical studies.”

“I don’t know, guys,” said Jimmy, “I’m not very good at lying – and especially to Dr Mallard.”

“You could just ask him straight out,” said Gibbs tiring of the discussion.

“I don’t know,” said Jerome doubtfully, “We want to keep this all secret if possible.”

“And …” began Faith.

“Make a decision quickly,” ordered Gibbs as he looked out of his window, “He’s just shown up!”

A few moments later, they heard Ducky coming through the front door,

“Jethro!  Are you here?  You’re not down in that dratted basement again, are you?  I’m sure inhaling all that wood dust cannot be good for you, you know.  I must show you a recent study on the deleterious effects of dust inhalation: it was written for sawmill industry …” Ducky trailed to a halt when he saw the number of people already in the room.  “I’m so sorry, I seem to have interrupted some sort of gathering … I will depart at once.”

“No, Dr Mallard,” said Jerome, “Please stay.  Your arrival may be … opportune.”

Ducky looked in surprise at Gibbs who seemed to be accepting of the Deputy Director’s taking charge of the situation.

“Well,” he said, “I am always ready to be of assistance.  Anthony, I thought you were on vacation … and if you don’t mind me saying so, you look a little _worn_ … perhaps you should be taking a more restful vacation than the one you seem to be engaged in.”

“I’m fine,” said Tony automatically.

“Hmm,” said Ducky doubtfully, “And, now Deputy Director, pray tell me in what way my arrival has proved to be opportune.”

“Sit down, Dr Mallard,” said Jerome as he gestured to everyone to resume their seats.

Ducky looked around sharply, still trying to take the tone of the room but deciding, for the moment, to keep silent.

“Ah, Dr Mallard,” said Jerome, “Agent Gibbs has just told us that you have a collection of old texts relating to your ancestors.”

“That information was given to Agent Gibbs in confidence,” said Ducky frostily.  “Jethro, I must say that I am disappointed that you spoke of it to others.”

“It was important, Duck,” said Gibbs.  The _sorry_ word was not quite said.

“Pray continue, Deputy Director,” said Ducky.

“We would be grateful to examine those papers,” said Jerome.

“And may I ask why?”

“Does it matter?” asked Jerome, still hoping to avoid a detailed explanation.

“I fear it does.  As I _confided_ to Agent Gibbs, I consider the material to be dangerous in the wrong hands and I have made sure never to disseminate it widely.”

Jerome looked around the others as if to get permission for disclosure, “Dr Mallard, you may find this hard to believe, but we think that your archive may relate to … to _us_.”

“I beg your pardon?” said Ducky.

Faith intervened, “Dr Mallard, we … I mean, some of us … have become aware of some Additional Powers which we have.  We believe these were suppressed for some generations and have only recently been revived …”

Ducky laughed, “After all these years, it seems that Jethro does have a sense of humour!  Jethro, I applaud your inventiveness in playing this trick on me although I will confess that I am surprised at who you chose as your co-conspirators.”

“Not a joke, Duck,” said Gibbs quietly.

Ducky’s face hardened, “I see … and indeed, I do not consider this to be a laughing matter.”

“We have Additional Powers,” said Faith, “We prefer that term to magic.”

“Then I fear you are all deluded,” said Ducky curtly, “And I do not intend to waste any more time on this matter.”  He made to rise but Jerome waved him back again.

“I understand your scepticism,” he said, “But I can assure you that we do have these powers.”

“We are trying to work out how to use them,” said Tony, “But not much evidence has survived to guide us.  It sounds like what you have could be real useful.”

“I’m sorry, Anthony …”

“Dr Mallard,” interrupted Jimmy, “We’re serious!  And we’re trying to be responsible about it, we don’t want to do anyone any harm.  Faith … I mean, Commander Coleman, is working on a code of conduct for us and Jerome is working on protocols.”

“Mr Palmer,” said Ducky sorrowfully, “Do you mean to say that you share in this delusion as well?”

“It’s not a delusion,” said Jimmy stoutly.

“You ever hear a delusion where the victims are setting up their own bureaucracy, Duck?” asked Gibbs drily.

Ducky sighed, “Jethro, I have lived a long and unsheltered life.  I have seen countless forms of delusion and paranoia: this is nothing new.”

“Why don’t you demonstrate?” suggested Gibbs, once again wanting to cut to the chase.

“A demonstration?” said Jerome, “Well, I don’t know.  We don’t really go in for that sort of thing.”

“You let DiNozzo demonstrate to me,” Gibbs reminded him as he recalled the polar bear cub sitting on his work bench.

“I think it would be OK,” said Faith.

“OK,” said Tony as he began to get to his feet, “What do you want?”

“No, not you!” said Jimmy hastily, “You need to stay as you are for a while yet.”

Tony opened his mouth to object but received twin glares from Faith and Jerome.  “All right then,” he said sulkily, “Then who?”

Faith, Jerome and Jimmy looked at one another uncertainly.

“What’s the problem?” asked Gibbs.

“Well,” said Jimmy awkwardly, “It’s hard to know what to do.  I mean, the animal changes are the most obvious but that’s what Tony is best at.  Although, he has been trying to teach us as well.  It’s just that we’re not very good yet.”

“Don’t think it needs to be spectacular,” said Tony encouragingly, “I’m sure that a mouse would be enough to convince Ducky.  Or, Faith, you managed an orangutan the other day.”

Gibbs gazed at the Commander thoughtfully, somehow orangutan was not an animal he would associate with her.

“Oh, very well,” said Faith reluctantly.  She stood up and closed her eyes in concentration.

“Don’t forget …” said Tony hastily.

Her eyes snapped open, “Don’t forget what?”

“To come back with your clothes on!”  Tony looked at Gibbs, “It’s a rookie mistake … and it’s kinda embarrassing when it happens.  Although,” he said, “Not that you wouldn’t look good with no clothes on, Faith … but that’s not relevant,” he hurried on in response to a glare.

Faith closed her eyes again and seemed to compose herself, a few seconds later and Gibbs saw and felt the customary rush of wind and heard a popping sound before a young orangutan appeared on his couch.  A few seconds later, and a fully clothed Commander was once again in Gibbs’ living room.

“Hey, well done!” praised Tony, “You’ve been practising.  The colour was beginning to go towards the end but that’ll come with practice.”

“Er, Tony,” said Jimmy, “I’m not sure now’s the right time for a lesson,” he jerked his head towards Ducky who was staring blankly in astonishment.

Jerome smiled at Ducky, “So, Dr Mallard, we’ve shown you that we’re telling the truth …”

Ducky swallowed and then said, “So, it’s true!  The powers have come back?  After all these years …”

“Yes,” said Faith gently.

“Goodness,” said Ducky, “So, my grandmother was right all along …”

“Yes,” said Jerome, “So you will help us, won’t you?  Show us your papers?”

Ducky stood a little straighter, “No.”

“Excuse me?” said Jerome.  “What do you mean?”

“I mean, no,” said Ducky.

“Duck?” asked Gibbs.

“Jethro, I am surprised that you have caught up in this, but _I_ will not be.”

“Why not?”

Ducky turned to address the other people in the room, “I fear I cannot be of help.  I do not believe that your _powers_ will benefit our world … indeed, I think they are extremely dangerous.  There is only one way in which I will assist you …”

“What’s that?” asked Faith.

“I will assist you in establishing how you can once again suppress the powers, but I will not help you in any other way.”


	10. Chapter 10

The arguments had gone on for some time, but Ducky remained obdurate.  Finally, Gibbs took Ducky down to the basement to try his own powers of persuasion.

“Jethro, I am surprised that you got caught up in this,” said Ducky when they were alone.

“No more surprised than me,” shrugged Gibbs.  “They needed someone to find out what Abby had done to DiNozzo …”

“Excuse me?  Where does Anthony fit into the story?”

“Abby tried Azaria’s spell on Tony.  It worked …”

“It worked!”

“Seems so but DiNozzo managed to change into something else on his own but apparently he said it felt odd, nasty.”

“I see.  I was not aware that Abby had experimented on Anthony and I was also not aware that the incantation had been effective at all.”

“Yeah, turns out that Abby is a bit _vague_ about what happened,” said Gibbs.

“And they were concerned about what Abby had done?”

“They thought there was something hinky about it.  Thought there might be something sinister going on, that they might be under attack.”

“Well, they’re not,” said Ducky briskly, “Now they know that it was I behind the transformation they can rest easy.”

“Not sure it’s that simple, Duck.  They’re doing their best, you know.  Trying to work it all out.  Couldn’t you just let them have a quick look at your old books?”

“Jethro,” said Ducky in exasperation, “It is unlike you to be naïve.”

“What?”

“I’m sure there is a certain _olde worlde_ charm about their efforts to do the right thing but …”

“But what?”

“The powers we are talking about here are very great assuming my reading of the evidence is correct.”

“What you mean?”

“I have seen that they are capable of changing their form – that takes a tremendous level of power and skill and I am most doubtful that that is the limit of their abilities.”

“Duck?”

“The old texts indicate a wide range of skills.  They can transport themselves at great speed …”

“Tony said they were still trying to work that one out,” Gibbs remembered.

“And also that they are able to influence the minds of others … I suspect they may have already done some of that with Abby.”

“I don’t think so,” said Gibbs, “When she told me about what Craig said to her, it seemed OK to me.”

“Jethro!  You are allowing yourself to be swayed by the _glamour_ of the situation.”

“Glamour?  Me?” said Gibbs incredulously.  “When you ever known me to be swayed by something like that.”

“You will have to forgive me, Jethro,” said Ducky stiffly, “I can see no other reason for your attitude.”

“How about the fact that I’ve known DiNozzo, Faith and Palmer for years?  That I think they are good people … people with integrity?  I’d say _that’s_ what _swayed_ me and not glamour.”

“Forgive me,” said Ducky more sincerely this time, “I should not have said that.  I am sure that you are motivated only by the best intentions, but I fear that I am not able to share them.”

“Then why are you so determined about this?” asked Gibbs gently.

“I fear the consequences,” said Ducky.  “I regret that this may cause a rift between us, but I must remain firm in my refusal – no matter what our _friends_ do to me.”

“We won’t do anything to you,” said Tony softly from the stairs.  “You’re our friend.  We wouldn’t hurt you.”

“But you don’t deny that you have the power to do so if you wished?” said Ducky.

“We wouldn’t hurt you,” said Tony.

“That’s not answering my question,” said Ducky.

“I’d like to talk to you,” said Tony.  “As a friend.”

Gibbs tested his gut and decided that it would be better to leave the two alone.  “Go upstairs,” he suggested, “I need some basement time and there’s a bench in the backyard.  You can sit there.”  If Gibbs somehow thought it would be better for Ducky not to be isolated in the basement, the thought went unspoken and Ducky and Tony, accustomed to obeying him, went away meekly enough.

“You will not change my mind,” said Ducky as they took their seats.

“I know,” said Tony, “But I’d like to talk things over with you.  Get another perspective.”

“You will forgive my scepticism, Anthony.  You are, after all, well known for your charm.”

“Doesn’t seem to work on anyone at NCIS,” observed Tony with a hint of bitterness.  At that moment, Bruce wandered from the house and jumped ecstatically on to Tony’s knees.

“It seems to be working with our feline visitor,” observed Ducky.  “Things really have changed, haven’t they?”

“Ducky?”

“I was not aware that Jethro had acquired a cat.”

“Ah,” said Tony, “Bruce sort of got here … by accident.  It’s a long story,” he paused, “Well, not a _long_ story but perhaps one for another time.”  Bruce knocked her head against Tony’s hand as a reminder to stroke her.

“Well, you know that I always enjoy a story – even if I am not the teller of that story.  And Bruce is a very handsome gentleman.”

“Actually, Bruce is a lady.  I guess the story is a little longer than I’d thought.”

“I’m sure it is fascinating but,” Ducky huffed, “What is it you wish to discuss with me?”

“You know, when we discovered we had the Additional Powers, we didn’t know what to do about it.  I guess there was the first stage when it was kinda fun to find out what we could do but then it sort of hit us.  It’s a good thing we weren’t alone …”

“I think there was some sort of intent behind that?” said Ducky cautiously, “Your ancestors knew it could be difficult to be alone.”

“ _Your_ ancestors as well, Ducky.  Yeah, from what we can tell they had a pretty good handle on what it would be like.”

“Do you know how many people have found they have magic powers?”

“Additional Powers,” corrected Tony, “We don’t feel comfortable with the word _magic_.  There are some other groups in the States and some in Europe.  We try to work together …”

“Jethro mentioned something about a bureaucracy?”

“Yeah, it’s probably just as well Gibbs won’t have APs!  We’ve involved lawyers and setting up a rule book!”

“And why did you do so?”

“Jerome and I are in law enforcement.  Faith is a lawyer.  Jimmy’s in medicine.  We’re all responsible people, we’ve all seen what can happen when people abuse power … and that was _ordinary_ power!  Who knows what _we_ could do with our powers?  It scared us … and we figured that staying together, making rules might protect us as well as other people.  In fact, as far as we can tell, the people with emerging powers seem mostly to be in law enforcement, medicine or some caring profession … doctors, nurses, teachers, care workers.  Guess that might be part of the plan as well.”

“I suggested to Jethro that you might be able to influence the minds of others,” said Ducky.  “Am I right?”

“Yes.”

“You can make people forget things?”

“Yes.  But we only do it if we have to … and we run it past other groups before we do.”

Ducky shook his head, “And it is that element which worries me.  I am most uneasy about anyone having that sort of power.  Once again, I would strongly urge that you consider suppressing it.”

“But even if we stopped other people getting them: and it’s a big if, that wouldn’t stop _us_ having the powers for the rest of our lives.  We know that much from when they were stopped all those years ago.”

“Nevertheless …”

“And wouldn’t it be like … I don’t know, deciding not to use scientific advances, not to work out how to cure disease because you might cure someone who is evil?”

“I don’t think that’s the same sort of thing at all, Anthony!”

“We’ve been given gifts; don’t you think we should use them?  Musicians should make music, poets write poetry, movie directors should do their thing …”

“Again, that is not the same thing!”

“But any gift can be misused,” protested Tony, “It doesn’t mean we stop people learning how to do things just in case they misuse their knowledge.”

“Humankind has managed without this knowledge, without these Additional Powers for centuries and I see no reason why they should not continue to do so.”

“On that argument, we should never have discovered how to use fire!”

“Anthony, your arguments are ingenious, but they will not persuade me.  I am ready to believe that you are trying to act responsibly but I am fearful about the future.”

“You know, I wouldn’t have expected that _I_ would want to be responsible,” mused Tony.

“Nonsense,” said Ducky briskly, “A career in law enforcement – and I am sure there would have been other options available – is a good indication of your wanting to use your abilities for the public good.  No, I am not at all surprised.  You are a good man, Anthony DiNozzo … but you have not changed my mind.”

Tony laughed, “I didn’t expect to, Ducky!  You, and Gibbs, can always run rings around me.  The arguments you make are ones we’ve all made at one time or another … you’re not the first to suggest suppressing the powers but, for most of us, it doesn’t seem the right thing to do.  It would be useful to be able to read the documents you’ve got – it might take some of the guesswork out of what we’re trying to do but,” he raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, “We’ll respect your principles.”

“And make me forget any of this happened?”

“No,” said Tony, “We’ll ask you to give your word that you won’t talk of this to anyone …”

“I doubt if anyone would believe me anyway!” chuckled Ducky.

“That’s what Gibbs said!  We’ll trust you, Ducky and hope …”

“That I change my mind?”

“Yes.  The documents would potentially help us a lot.  You know, I’m curious about one thing: if you have so many doubts about these powers, why didn’t you destroy the papers?”

“I thought about it many times,” admitted Ducky, “But something always held me back.  I’d go and look at them, get ready to burn them but found myself unable to do so.”

“I’m glad,” said Tony, “At least it can give us hope you will change your mind.”

Ducky shook his head sadly and Tony got up to go.  Jimmy must have been watching from the house because he came out and looked hopefully at Tony who shrugged in resignation.

“Did you tell him …” asked Jimmy anxiously.

“Doesn’t matter, Jimmy,” said Tony.

“But, Tony …”

“Save it!  Ducky still has doubts and he won’t let us see his papers.

“But it could help …”

“I think forcing Ducky would just confirm his worst suspicions about us,” said Tony lightly.  “Leave it, we’ll manage.”

Ducky was curious about Jimmy’s anxiety, “Am I to infer that there is some urgency to the wish to look at my archive?”

“Yes!” said Jimmy.

“No,” said Tony, “Jimmy’s just excited, that’s all.”

Ducky was surprised to receive a glare from Jimmy, but his assistant managed to prevent himself from saying anything and turned to follow Tony into the house.  Ducky resolutely stared at Gibbs’ rosebushes in the yard and then turned hastily as he heard a thump and saw that Tony had fallen to the ground with Bruce meowing next to him.

Jimmy rushed to kneel at Tony’s side and then looked up at Ducky and hissed, “This is _your_ fault!”


	11. Chapter 11

Ducky stared at Jimmy in disbelief but decided to defer commenting until he had attended to Tony.

“Anthony!  What happened?”

Tony looked up into the anxious faces of Ducky and Palmer and shook his head, “Don’t know … I just felt dizzy and the next thing I knew I was nearly faceplanting the ground.  Good thing I didn’t, don’t think Boss would appreciate me getting blood on his decking.”

“Can you get up?” asked Ducky, “I think you would be more comfortable situated on Jethro’s couch.”

“No arguments from me,” said Tony, “But … er … I might need a hand up.”

Jimmy and Ducky hastened to lift Tony to his feet and then shepherded him to Gibbs’ living room where Faith and Jerome were still in discussion.  Gibbs heard the additional noise and emerged from his basement.

“Tony?  What’s the matter?” asked Jerome.

“He fainted,” said Jimmy.

“No, I didn’t,” protested Tony, “I …”

“Merely decided to take a closer look at the ground?” suggested Ducky.

Tony had recovered enough to glare at Ducky but, wisely, decided not to argue.

“What happened?” asked Gibbs, “Palmer, you tell me,” he said gesturing to Tony to keep silent.

“I’m not sure, Agent Gibbs.  Tony got up to come back in and the next thing I knew he was on the ground.”

“How you feeling, DiNozzo?” asked Gibbs.  The others looked at Tony attentively, somehow knowing that Tony would tell Gibbs the truth.

“Everything went black and I found myself on the ground.  And I feel fine now … or I will in a moment or two.”

“Has your medical guy come up with anything?” asked Gibbs of Faith and Jerome.

“No, he’s still working on it,” said Faith.

“Is he sure it’s something specific to do with the spell?”

“No,” admitted Jerome, “And he’s an animal doctor, not a human one but he thinks the blood test looks odd and he can’t find anything in his medical books that helps.”

“Could I perhaps be of assistance?” said Ducky, “As I do have medical experience on _humans_ ,” he added pointedly.

“Might as well,” said Tony in a resigned tone, “Prod away, everyone else has.”

Jimmy went to collect Ducky’s medical bag from his car and the ME proceeded to examine Tony.  “Well,” he announced, “I would say that you are run down, if not exhausted and I find that surprising as you seemed to be in the pink of health just a few days ago.  Your breathing is a little ragged and I think, from looking at your skin tone, that you may be anaemic.  There may be other conditions which would become apparent with blood and urine tests.”

“How serious is it?” asked Gibbs.

Tony muttered something about being talked _over_ rather than _to,_ but this was ignored.

“If this condition had built up over a number of weeks or was due to an identifiable underlying condition, I would say that it was of concern but would respond to treatment but, as I say, this situation appears to be different.”  Ducky saw the despondent faces of his companions and continued, “Mr Palmer, why did you say this was my fault?”

Jimmy looked a little embarrassed but also defiant, “We think Tony’s condition may have been caused by Azaria’s _spell_ ,” he said.

“I see … I may have been _inadvertently_ to blame,” said Ducky, “And I am most sorry about that …”

“And it’s possible that some of the documents you have might give us a clue,” continued Jimmy, “We don’t know much about illnesses which may affect people with Additional Powers and we hoped that you would let us look at them.  But you’ve refused.”

Ducky turned to Tony in astonishment, “Anthony, why didn’t you tell me!  You must know that I would not withhold any medical help …”

Tony shuffled awkwardly, “Seemed you were refusing us access to your papers on principle.  I didn’t want to make it look as if we were trying to get around it.”

Ducky tutted, “Jethro, you know where my safe is at home.  Please go and get the papers and return here so we can examine them to see if they contain any useful information.”

“On _medical_ matters?” asked Faith.

“We will work that out later,” said Ducky, “Our first priority must be Anthony’s health.  We can work on the finer details of access later.”

“You want to come too, Duck?” asked Gibbs.

“I will remain here and monitor Anthony’s condition: assuming I am forgiven to some extent at least?” he asked pointedly of Jimmy.

“I’ll come with you,” said Jerome.  “The journey time might be shorter that way.”

Gibbs nodded, wondering what the journey would be like … it would be a change for _him_ to be on the passenger end of a scary ride.

NCISNCIS

Ducky and Jimmy discussed the details of Tony’s condition to such effect that he dozed off with boredom.  Jimmy apologised for his outburst and Ducky graciously forgave him; not least because he suspected that anyone else would have been far ruder to him.

Bruce arrived and jumped on Tony’s tummy which awoke him from a restless dream.  Stroking the cat reminded Tony about Azaria,

“What made you give Azaria a spell in Esperanto?” he asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Faith and Jerome listened to the spell being cast and said it sounded as if it was a mix of voodoo and Esperanto.”

“And pidgin English,” added Faith.

“I don’t understand,” said Ducky, “And while I applaud the aspirations behind the creation of the Esperanto language, I fear I have never obtained any degree of fluency in it.  And my knowledge of voodoo is similarly limited … I have a working knowledge of pidgin but …”

“So you didn’t give her a spell in another language?” asked Faith.

“Well,” said Ducky looking embarrassed, “I confess that I did translate it into Latin.  I thought it would give the affair a little gravitas … add some ceremony and mystique.”

“You sure it wasn’t Latin?” Tony asked Faith.  “You didn’t make a mistake?”

“No, I’d recognise Latin.  And you’re forgetting Jerome’s Esperanto lessons,” she replied.

“I didn’t know that the Deputy Director was a student of Esperanto,” said Ducky, “I must talk to him about it … I have sometimes considered studying another language.  I feel I do have a natural proficiency for other tongues and it would be interesting to discover if that extends to what is, after all, something of a constructed language rather than one which has developed naturally.  But, of course,” he said hastily, “That is a matter for another time.”

“Then why did Azaria change the words?” asked Tony.  “Could we get a copy of the recording, Faith?  And a translation?  We can check what she did?”

“I find it extraordinary,” said Ducky, “That my _spell_ had any effect on you, Anthony.”  He lifted his hands pacifically, “It is not that I do not believe in the possibility of spells but that one _I_ provided should have had an effect … and especially that one.”

“What do you mean, ‘that one’?” asked Faith.

“Well, I probably should not have said it was a _spell_.  It was in a book acquired by my grandmother and was almost like a commonplace book of old wives’ tales, superstitions, songs and so on.  There were also a number of … charms, I suppose you would call them.”

“Charms?” asked Tony.

“Yes, you know, little songs or rhymes to accompany a particular task.  Almost asking a blessing on the work at hand … some of them have a strong rhythm which can help with the task – serving as a beat to which to perform tasks such as rowing a boat or kneading dough.”

“And it was one of those which you gave Azaria?” asked Faith.

“Indeed.  As far as I recall it was a chant to accompany the stirring of the porridge cauldron.”

“The porridge cauldron?” asked Tony faintly.

“Yes, oh – you might prefer to call it oatmeal.”

“You gave Azaria a chant to prosper the work of making oatmeal?” said Faith.

“Yes.”

“But didn’t you tell Gibbs that you altered it, just to be safe?” asked Tony.

“I did.”

“But why?”

“Cooking oatmeal takes a long time … or it did in the time when the incantation was written down.  And accordingly, its incantation needed to be long.  There are parts of it which talk about the possibility of dearth, famine and holes in the cauldron … I chose to leave those out although my grandmother would have said that their omission would render the chant ineffective.”

“You gave Azaria a recipe to make oatmeal?” said Tony.

“I wouldn’t term it as a recipe but, essentially, yes.”

“Not a recipe to make blue parakeets?” asked Tony, wanting to be sure.

“By no means.  Why, is that what happened?”

“Yes.  I guess … Ducky, are you sure your translation was right?”

“It is some time since I came top of my class in ancient languages in the Upper Fifth,” said Ducky stiffly, “So it _possible_ that I am a little rusty but I do not believe that I would be able to confuse the Latin for porridge with that for blue parakeet … always assuming such a word exists in Latin.”

“I guess we’ll have to wait to check what was actually said again,” sighed Tony.  “My head hurts.”

“Is that a new symptom?” asked Jimmy anxiously.

“No,” said Tony, “Well yes, but only a symptom of trying to work out what went on in Abby’s lab!”

At that moment, the front door to Gibbs’ house burst open and a somersaulting Gibbs came rolling through.  Jerome walked through more sedately, “I told you it would be better if I held the books,” he said to Gibbs who was lying on his back, trying to look in control.

Tony laughed, “Now you know what driving with _you_ feels like!”

Gibbs sat up, tried to straighten his hair and decided not to comment directly.  “We got the books,” he announced.  “What’s the plan?”

“We’ll divide them up between us,” decided Faith. “Dr Mallard, do you know if any of these documents relate specifically to ailments?”

“It is some time since I looked at them,” said Ducky, “I don’t remember that they do; my recollection is that they are almost like diaries or journals, so their content is random.  Some of them are in a language I could not read and, I fear, I was not inclined to investigate too closely.”

Jerome lay his bundle on the coffee table and unwrapped the documents from the paper Ducky had kept them in.  Gibbs and Ducky took one each and retreated to the kitchen table to read them.  Bruce, noticing them going nearer kitchen cabinets, opportunistically followed them in the hope that food might be produced.

“Cupboard love,” muttered Tony as he saw her go.  He stretched across and selected an old book and, as he picked it up, said, “Wow!”

“Tony?” asked Jimmy.

“It feels … good,” said Tony in an awestruck voice.  “Try one.”

Faith, Jerome and Jimmy picked up a book each and smiled.  “There’s power of some sort around these,” announced Faith.

“And they’re in beautiful condition,” observed Jimmy.

“They don’t look hundreds of years old,” said Jerome.  “Something’s happened to them to keep them like this.”

“I guess they’re even more important than we realised,” said Tony.  He opened his book, “Ducky, is this one of the ones you couldn’t read?”

Ducky walked over and picked up the book, “I don’t feel anything,” he commented.

“Nor me,” said Gibbs.

“I think it must be something else we don’t understand about Additional Powers,” said Jerome, “And something else only someone with APs can recognise.”

“More protection,” said Tony.  “But you said you didn’t feel able to destroy them, Ducky?”

“That’s right.”

“I don’t think that’s accidental.  So, they were having an impact on you in some way, Ducky.  Maybe you’ve absorbed something over the years.”

“You think that might be why Dr Mallard’s ‘spell’ worked?” asked Jimmy.

“Could be,” said Tony, “And it’s odd that I picked this one up.”

“How so?” asked Gibbs.

“’Cos it’s in Italian … well, old Italian but I can make it out.”

“I’m beginning to think this isn’t all coincidence,” said Gibbs.

“Huh, who’d have thunk it?” said Tony.

“ _Thunk_ what?” asked Faith.

“That Additional Powers are governed by Gibbs’ rules … or more specifically, Rule 39?”

“Rule 39?” asked Faith and Jerome in unison.

“No such thing as coincidence,” chorused Tony, Jimmy and Ducky.

 


	12. Chapter 12

Gibbs and his visitors settled down with their books and documents and began reading in the hope of finding clues about what might be afflicting Tony.  Bruce roamed around for a while hoping to guilt someone into feeding her, but Gibbs ran a tight ship when it came to snacks between mealtimes for feline guests and her wiles did not work.  Finally, she gave up and snuggled up once more to Tony: perhaps she glimpsed that, in normal circumstances, he would be the most likely to give in to her.

After an hour or so, Gibbs looked across to the couch where Tony lay and saw that he had fallen asleep as he tried to translate the archaic Italian.  Ducky followed Gibbs’ gaze and got up to retrieve the book which was in danger of tumbling to the ground,

“W-w-what?” said Tony sleepily as he instinctively held on to the book.

“Anthony,” said Ducky gently, “I was just trying to keep the book safe.”

“Oh … oh, OK then,” said Tony as he let Ducky take the volume.  “Oh,” he said in a different tone.

“What?” asked Ducky.

“It’s just … well … it’ll sound stupid …”

“Don’t worry about that, DiNozzo,” said Gibbs, “We’re kinda used to that from you.”

“Jethro!” said Ducky crossly, “Now is not the moment to indulge in any of your misplaced humour!”

“S’allright, Ducky,” slurred Tony, “’m used to it.”

“What did you think would sound stu- I mean, odd?” asked Ducky.

“Felt better when I was holding on to the book,” said Tony reluctantly.

“Excuse me?”

“Well, I don’t feel too good … but it felt worse when you took the book away.”

“Then have it back,” said Gibbs briskly as he took the book from Ducky and thrust it back into Tony’s hands.

“Thanks, Boss,” said Tony gratefully.

“Faith, Deputy Director, Mr Palmer: have you noticed any beneficial effect from holding on to these papers?” asked Ducky.

“I suppose so,” said Jimmy, “I mean, I felt OK before, but I guess I feel more … energised?”

“Me too,” said Faith, “I hadn’t noticed it until you asked but I think I feel more _cheerful_.”

“We already felt some _power_ coming from them,” observed Jerome, “I guess that power has some effect as well.”

“Then keep a hold of the damned book, DiNozzo,” said Gibbs.  “And have any of you found anything while you’ve been reading?”

“No,” said Jerome regretfully, “They are fascinating to read and have some useful insights but nothing in particular about illnesses.”

“I don’t think there seems to be anything which specifically targets people with APs,” said Jimmy.

“What about that multiple morphing thing DiNozzo had?” asked Gibbs as he remembered when Tony had uncontrollably kept changing shape.

“That’s not so much a _disease_ as something that can happen if too many changes are done in quick succession … and there was alcohol involved, which is not recommended,” replied Jimmy.

“And it doesn’t seem that Tony has had _that_ problem this time,” said Faith.

“You don’t think the two are connected?  I mean the dodgy spell didn’t cause the multiple morphing?”

“As I told you,” said Jerome, “We prefer not to use words like morphing.”

“We don’t know,” said Jimmy, “But I think the multiple mo-changes are not connected to the attack … although they have may have made him more vulnerable to the effects of the attack because they exhausted him.  We know something of the changes _syndrome_ and the side effects don’t generally include those that Dr Mallard has identified.”

“Still here,” muttered Tony in an offended tone, “Ears and voice still working.”

“I would recommend that you desist from your investigations, Anthony,” said Ducky, “You look very weary … and indeed had fallen asleep over your work.”

Gibbs interpreted the stubborn look on Tony’s face and decided to make amends for his former brusqueness, “Why don’t we all stop for something to eat?  Give ourselves a break, come back to it fresh.”

“Who are you?  And what have you done with Gibbs?” asked Tony.

“Hey, I give you a break sometimes,” replied Gibbs.

“I think that’s a good idea,” said Faith.  “And so does Tony,” she added firmly.

“And Bruce,” observed Tony as the cat leapt from the couch and marched towards the kitchen with her tail held high.

Tony fell asleep while food was being got ready.  Ducky took the opportunity to conduct a surreptitious examination and, from the thoughtful look on his face, his findings were not encouraging.

“Should we be taking Anthony to hospital?” he said to the others who had gathered in the kitchen.

“Is he in danger?” asked Jerome.

“Not immediately, but there may be tests which could be run to determine the cause of his illness.”

“What tests do you want to run?”

“I admit that I do not know.  I cannot think of any condition which would cause the symptoms which he has,” said Ducky.

“Is there any treatment a hospital could give?” asked Faith.

“Again, I do not know.  He is not in respiratory distress but rather just appears to be getting weaker.  An iron infusion might help – I could do a simple test to see if he is anaemic.”

“Could you do the infusion here?” asked Gibbs, “Or does he need to be in hospital?”

“I could do,” said Ducky, “I would need to go and get the equipment and the correct dose of iron.”

“Do the test, we’ll take it from there,” ordered Gibbs.

Ducky nodded and went to make his preparations.  Gibbs found him envying the ME having something concrete to do.

Jerome turned out to be an excellent cook, producing an appetising meal from the somewhat discouraging resources provided by Gibbs’ kitchen.  Tony woke up enough to eat a good portion and insisted on resuming his reading of the Italian book.

Gibbs found himself mentally taking bets on how long it would be before Tony fell asleep again and, for a while, it seemed that Tony was dozing off once more but then, suddenly, he exclaimed,

“Hell!  We got it wrong!”

“What?” asked Faith, Jerome and Jimmy.

“Well, not _wrong_ ,” said Tony, “But not completely right.”

“DiNozzo!” snapped Gibbs, “Report! Stop dithering!”

“But Boss, this is huge.  I mean, really, really huge …”

“Anthony,” said Ducky peaceably, “Might I suggest that you tell us what it is you have discovered?  I am more than happy to have you as a patient, but I have no wish to add Jethro to my care and I fear that may happen if he has an apoplectic fit.”

“Duck …” said Gibbs menacingly.

“On it, Ducky … Boss,” said Tony hastily.  “We thought that our ancestors had decided to suppress the APs because people who had them were being persecuted …”

“Were we wrong?” asked Faith in confusion.

“No, but there was more to it than that.  Or at least there was in Italy.  We thought that APs were used for good, didn’t we?  And that people got the wrong end of the stick which was why they got persecuted.”

“Go on,” said Jerome as Tony paused to gather his thoughts.

“It seems that there were people with APs … or possibly not with APs but something similar … who were doing bad things with them.  The people who wrote this,” Tony tapped the page, “suspected that they were trying to put the blame on the people with APs …”

“And who were these other people?” asked Faith.

“I don’t think they knew … I get the impression they were trying not to write too much down … trying to keep their discoveries secret.”

“And what happened?” asked Jimmy.

“They decided to suppress APs …”

“We know that,” said Gibbs.

“And believed they would be able to suppress the other powers as well,” said Tony.

“That makes sense,” said Jimmy.  “I never quite understood why they took such a dramatic step as suppressing the APs when they could have just made sure they stayed under the radar … not that radar existed then, of course.”

“But suppressing their power so that they could suppress these other powers,” said Jerome, “That was quite a sacrifice.”

“Does it matter?” asked Faith.

“What?” said Jerome.

“I mean, does it matter to us today that our ancestors suppressed some other powers as well?”

“I guess not,” said Jimmy doubtfully.

“There’s something else,” said Tony.

“What?” asked Gibbs.

“Ducky’s spell or charm or whatever it was …”

“You must know that I never thought it would have an effect,” said Ducky earnestly.  “I was acting for the best although I now understand that it may have had an unexpected outcome.”

“It felt _nasty_ ,” said Tony.

“And I must apologise once more for that,” said a distressed Ducky, “And assure you most sincerely that I would never have wanted anything like that to happen.”

“I know Ducky.  And that’s what puzzles me.”

“How so?” asked Gibbs.

“I don’t associate Ducky with anything _nasty_ like that.  Jerome, you’re good at picking up on things like that … do you get any sense of something evil about Ducky?”

Jerome stared at Ducky for a disconcertingly long time before finally saying, “No.  I mean, I’ve never tried to apply that skill on Dr Mallard before.  As you know, we try to restrict that sort of _enquiry_ to whether or not someone has powers … so I’m not necessarily skilled in perceiving evil but no, I don’t have any sense of anything being _adverse_ about him.”

“I’m sure that’s right,” said Jimmy, “I’ve worked with Dr Mallard for many years now … and I know that I’m not always the most … intuitive person but I think I’d know if Dr Mallard was a _bad_ person.  I mean, I know he gets a bit obsessive sometimes … and he gets cross if I’m slow on the uptake … and …”

“Mr Palmer,” interrupted Ducky, “I’m grateful for the character reference but might I suggest that you stop now?”

“Oh … yes, I see,” said Jimmy, “Yes, of course.  But I just want to say that I agree with Jerome’s assessment.”

“We’re all agreed,” said Gibbs impatiently, “That Duck is a good person – what you getting at, DiNozzo?”

“Ducky didn’t give Azaria a spell in Esperanto or Pidgin.  We haven’t been able to make sense of what the spell was.  I don’t think Azaria used Ducky’s spell.”

“What difference does that make?” asked Gibbs.

“There was power in whatever she used on me.  I still think that Ducky may have been affected by the power of the books but not enough to cause this … whatever this is.”

“So?” asked Faith.

“I think Azaria was either given a spell by someone else _or_ she was using her own powers.”

“But we would know, wouldn’t we?  If she had powers?” said Jerome.

“None of us have met her.  Gibbs, Ducky and Abby have but none of us with APs.  My only contact with her was through the spell and then through the window at St Wilhelmina’s – and that only lasted a second because Bruce muscled in.”

Jimmy looked at Bruce anxiously who was placidly grooming herself, “You don’t think she’s involved, do you?” he whispered.

“What, causing a distraction so I wouldn’t latch on to her?” asked Tony.

“I checked the cat when she first arrived,” said Jerome, “Gibbs and Tony had both had suspicions.  I’m fairly certain she is a cat … albeit a confused cat because Tony misnamed her, but just a cat.”

“Phew,” said Jimmy, “Good, ‘cos I’m not sure what we would do with a rogue cat.”

“I think we’ve got a bigger problem than a muddled cat,” said Gibbs drily.

“If I’m right, Azaria has powers that she’s using in an … unfriendly way,” said Tony.

“But where would she get them?” asked Faith.

“We know that our ancestors arranged for APs to come back,” said Tony gravely, “What if the other powers were released at the same time?”

“Then we really might be under attack,” said Jerome, as he remembered his fears when Tony was first changed into a blue parakeet.

“APIs!” said Faith.

“What?” asked Gibbs.

“Additional Powers Incursions,” said Jerome.  “The Board were sceptical when I suggested that, but they may change their mind now.”

Gibbs remembered how Azaria’s sharp eyes belied the rest of her amiable demeanour, “I guess she’s one scary lady.”

“Still don’t understand why she chose a blue parakeet,” said Tony fretfully. 

Somehow, Tony’s companions thought he would have taken the attack better if she had been trying to change him into a golden eagle or something else impressive.

“We’ll make sure to ask her when we find her,” said Gibbs solemnly.

“But how will we find her?” asked Ducky, “You will remember that I went to St Wilhelmina’s myself and she was not there.  And nobody seemed to know where she might be.”

The room fell silent as they contemplated the implications of someone with hostile APs at large in DC.


	13. Chapter 13

Commander Coleman and Deputy Director Jerome Craig decided they needed to brief other members of the Board in person.  As they prepared to leave, Jerome addressed Ducky,

“Dr Mallard, I will need to show the Italian document to the Board.  I know we didn’t come to an agreement about access to your papers but …”

“I understand, Deputy Director.  I fear things have moved on since my initial refusal.”

“Thank you.  For the moment, I won’t share the other papers with the Board: they are not crucial to what we have found out.”

“I appreciate that, Deputy Director.  And I assure you I will give every consideration …”

“Hey!  You going or not?” demanded Gibbs, fearing that the courteous discussion could go on indefinitely and still not reach a conclusion.

“Jethro is right,” said Ducky, “You and Faith should go forthwith … the details can be hammered out at a more opportune time … oh, they’ve gone!”

“How you feeling, DiNozzo?” asked Gibbs as he turned his attention to Tony.

“Tired.  A bit achy … but fine really,” responded Tony.

“Oh yeah?  You want to try that again?” asked Gibbs.

“Well, fine for someone battling a medieval disease,” amended Tony, “But it’s not like we haven’t been before, eh?”

“No, I guess not, Tony,” said Gibbs more gently.

“Perhaps you should try doing what you did before?” suggested Tony.

“What?  Threaten to shoot someone?  I would if I knew who to aim at,” replied Gibbs.

Tony managed a weak laugh, “No, before - you told me I wouldn’t die …”

“And you didn’t.”

“True, but mostly because I believed you!  I thought you knew something I didn’t and that it would all be OK.”

“I did know something.”

“What did you know?”

“Not what, but who.  I knew you, DiNozzo and I knew you don’t give up, that you don’t stop fighting.”

“Don’t know what I’m fighting this time, Boss.”

“Huh.  Tell me something.”

“Sure.”

“How do you do the changing into other animals … birds … stuff like that?”

“I don’t know … well, I do … I have to concentrate … picture the destination animal.  So, I can do a tiger, but a woolly mammoth would be trickier because I haven’t seen a photo.”

“Huh,” said Gibbs as he realised he might have got away lightly with just a polar bear cub and giraffe in his basement.

“Although,” continued Tony, “I’m guessing a baby woolly mammoth would be cute.”

“I guess.  And out of the four of you, you’re the one who’s focussed on the animal morphing?”

“Yeah … although we can all do it … well, you saw Faith.”

“Should’ve guessed you’d go for that,” said Gibbs.

“Why?”

“Gives you another chance to be in disguise … you’ve been hiding all your life.”

“Wow, Boss … that’s sort of insightful.”

“I have my moments, DiNozzo.  Hey, when Palmer showed up in my basement when you kept doing all that changing, he said something about the others anchoring you.  What was that about?”

“Seems to work, other people who’ve had it happen to them say that someone else with APs touching them helps them stabilise.”

“Palmer!” called Gibbs.

“Yes, Agent Gibbs?” said Jimmy hurrying over, “Is something wrong?  Or do you just need another cup of coffee?  I don’t know how to use your coffee maker … I haven’t seen one as old as yours, you see.  You could probably sell it for a lot of money at a flea market, it’s vintage you know.  It’s the shabby chic look, distressed.  Oh, not that I’m saying your stuff is shabby … or distressed … I just meant …”

“Jimmy,” said Tony, “Stop digging.”

Gibbs decided that Palmer’s opinion of his possessions could be discussed at a later date and simply said, “When DiNozzo kept on changing into other animals you said that being touched by someone with APs could help.  Would it help now?”

“Oh,” said Jimmy, “I don’t know.  It might do.  Dr Mallard’s books seem to be helping so perhaps the APs would too.  Wouldn’t hurt anyway.  If you don’t mind, Tony?”

“Go ahead,” sighed Tony.  “But hey, give me another book, would you?  Jerome took the Italian one with him.”

“I’ll get it,” said Gibbs, “I need to get a coffee anyway.”

Bruce seemed to have decided that Tony needed her comfort as well as that of the books and, for once, didn’t follow Gibbs to the kitchen.

Gibbs handed Tony a book.

“Huh,” said Tony, “This one feels different.”

“Different bad, or different good?” asked Jimmy.

“Don’t know.  Just different.  It’s Ducky’s grandmother’s book … the one he got the spell from …”

“Anthony, I must apologise once more for the train of events I inadvertently set in motion.  I wish …”

“It’s done, Ducky … and it wasn’t your fault.  Anyway, it might be easier on the old noggin to read this one … is it just me and did the people who wrote the old AP stuff write in a really messed up way?  Nothing straightforward?”

“I know what you mean,” agreed Jimmy, “It’s really wordy …”

“Well, gentlemen, you should remember that the texts were written more than three hundred years ago … in some ways, the English language – and no doubt, the Italian language, was still evolving and some words or indeed concepts, did not exist so we cannot expect to find …”

“Duck,” said Gibbs from the kitchen, “Come and help me with this, would you?  I don’t think the _boys_ are interested in a lecture on the evolution of language.”

“Oh?  That is a pity because I’ve made an extensive study of evolutionary linguistics alongside an interest in etymology … it is fascinating.  I will give you the highlights while I assist you in the kitchen.”

“What did the blood test show?” asked Gibbs when he had Ducky in the kitchen, “Does he need one of those infusions?”

“No,” said Ducky, “It is most puzzling.  His iron level is a little low but not enough to require an infusion or, in itself, to cause these symptoms.  I am inclined to think that the only _infusion_ he needs is one of tea leaves in boiling water!”

By the time Gibbs and Ducky returned to Tony’s couch with drinks and cookies, Tony was dozing again.

“What are simples, Dr Mallard?” asked Jimmy.

“Excuse me?”

Jimmy pointed to the book Tony was holding, “It says that it contains charms, incantations and _simples_.”

“Ah, this is where my instruction on etymology would have enlightened you,” said Ducky with a hint of smugness.  “Simples relate to the use of herbs in medicines, you might regard them as cures.”

“Maybe there’s a cure for what DiNozzo’s got in there?” said Gibbs half-jokingly.

“I doubt it, Jethro,” said Ducky, “As I mentioned before, I’m not sure where Grandmama obtained that volume.  It seems different to the other books.”

“It’s worth a try,” said Jimmy and he snatched the book away from Tony who instinctively gripped hold of it.  “Oops,” said Jimmy as the inside cover page tore.  “I’m sorry, Dr Mallard, I didn’t mean to damage your book.”

Tony had woken up a little during the tug-of-war, “Hey, there was something inside there,” he noticed as he pulled a piece of parchment out from where it had been concealed within the cover.  “More cryptic stuff,” he announced when he looked at it.

“Drink your tea, Anthony,” said Ducky kindly.  “I put some honey in it, it will help restore your energy levels,” he crossed his fingers surreptitiously.

Jimmy began to leaf through the book, hoping for cures … or simples … for reactions to bad spells.  Tony put the tea away until it had cooled a little and began looking at the newly found sheet of parchment.

“You were right, Agent Gibbs!” said Jimmy after a few minutes.

“Don’t sound surprised, Palmer.  It has been known,” said Gibbs sternly before spoiling the effect slightly by adding, “What was I right about this time?”

“The book says that attendance by those with … and there’s a picture of a star … can be of assistance when someone has been the subject of a … and there’s a picture of a star in pieces.”

“And what does that mean?” asked Gibbs.

“Well, I think – in the book I’ve been reading – that a star symbolises APs.”

“And you think a busted star might mean something gone wrong with APs?” asked Gibbs sceptically.

“I think so.  And there’s something else … in really small writing … so small it’s hardly there.  That’s probably why you didn’t spot it, Dr Mallard … I mean, I don’t mean to imply that your eyesight is bad …”

“Mr Palmer, I am aware that I am optically challenged … although I would point out that you also wear corrective …”

“What you found, Palmer?” interrupted Gibbs.

“There’s something here which suggests that when afflicted by a _busted-star_ phenomenon that normal remedies won’t help.”

“Great,” said Tony gloomily but distractedly.

“But,” continued Palmer excitedly, “A cure can be achieved in the same way as someone with – there’s a star symbol again – achieves other changes to themselves.”

“And what does that mean?” asked Ducky.

“You mean, the same way that you people can change into other creatures, you can make yourselves well?” demanded Gibbs.

“We don’t like the term _you people_ ,” said Jimmy stiffly, “We’re normal people – we can just do some things which other people can’t.  But, Agent Gibbs, you can do things that I can’t do …”

“Palmer!”

“But, of course, that doesn’t matter at the moment,” said Jimmy hastily, “But, in essence, I think the book is saying that it might be possible for Tony to imagine himself back to wellness.”

“You saying this is in all my _mind_?” said Tony crossly.

“No.  No!” said Jimmy, “I mean …”

“You told me,” said Gibbs, “That to change into another animal you have to imagine yourself as that animal.  Looks as if you might be able to picture yourself as well.  You said you didn’t know what you had to fight this time … well, it might be that you can provide the answer.”

“Fascinating,” said Ducky, “And, of course, it is well documented that a positive psychological approach is key to a good recovery.  There was a fascinating study in …”

“So, what do I need to do?” asked Tony.

“Think yourself well,” said Gibbs.

“Tony, think how you would change into a merlin … that’s your favoured creature.  And think how you can adapt that to sort of changing into a healthy you,” said Jimmy more helpfully.

“I would recommend, however,” said Ducky, “That you do it for a few seconds at a time rather than for a prolonged period.”

“Yes,” agreed Jimmy, “There are some hourglasses written here.  I think that means it takes a while.  Not as quick as you turning into an animal.”

“OK, then,” said Tony, “I’ll give it a go.  Must be better than being stuck with more needles.”

“Anthony, you know that I only use …”

“Duck!  Let him get on with it, eh?” said Gibbs.

“Indeed.  Although I hope that Anthony knows that I only ever apply my medical expertise in his best interests.”

Jimmy and Gibbs ignored this explanation in favour of watching Tony trying to imagine himself well.  It turned out not to be very interesting or revealing and after a few seconds, Tony said, “Don’t know if that worked or not.”

“Do you feel better?” asked Jimmy.

“I don’t feel any worse,” said Tony, “Still tired,” and he yawned.

“Drink your tea, Anthony and then take a rest before trying again,” suggested Ducky.

Tony nodded and sipped his tea.  He picked up the parchment and studied it once more, “Jimmy, pass me one of the other books, would you?”

“Sure … but you should be resting,” said Jimmy as he passed over the book he had been reading before.

“I will,” promised Tony, “There’s just something I need to check.”  He looked at the parchment and then at the book, counted in a few pages and then down the page he chose.  “Don’t believe it!” he said.

“What?” asked Gibbs.

Tony held up the parchment, “This is a key.”

“A what?” asked Jimmy.

“There are hidden messages in the books – that’s why they don’t always read well.  This is a key to a cipher – you have to use it to find the words you have to read in the book.  Our ancestors did want it to be clear to us … but they used a code!  Maybe we can find out everything they wanted us to know …” Tony trailed off as he sank back exhausted on to his pillows.

“Come!” said Ducky, “Anthony, rest and then get back to thinking yourself to wellness.  Jethro, Mr Palmer – we will undertake the deciphering.”

“That it, Duck?” asked Gibbs.

“Yes.”

“You don’t want to tell us about the codes you broke when on an archaeological dig?”

“No.”

“Or how you were top of your class in cryptology at your Alma Mater?”

“No.”

“Or how you’ve made a study of code cracking through the ages?”

Ducky gave Gibbs a cool stare, “You surprise me, Jethro.  You are not normally one to delay going into action by listening to anecdotes.  Especially by listening to _my_ anecdotes!”

Jimmy looked anxiously at the two friends and was then relieved to see them grin and wink at each other.

“Although,” said Ducky thoughtfully, “Now that you mention it …”


	14. Chapter 14

Another day went by slowly.  Tony periodically tried to _imagine_ himself well while Jimmy, Ducky and Gibbs used the cipher to try and work out what was truly written in Ducky’s manuscripts.  Faith and Jerome called to let them know that they were still locked in discussions with other Board members about what to do in reaction to the revelation that there were _bad_ Additional Powers.

Tony gradually improved as the day wore on while the others fared less well in the decoding of the books which was tedious work.

“Guys,” said Jimmy, “I really need to go home.  Breena’s there on her own with Victoria and she’ll want me to help tell her a bedtime story.   Victoria loves the sound effects I do.”

“Go, Jimmy,” said Tony.  “We’ll be fine.”

“You sure?” asked Jimmy although he was already half way to the door.  “I’ll be back first thing tomorrow and we can carry on.”

“Your wife and kid need you, Palmer,” said Gibbs brusquely.  “Go on!”

“Yes, indeed, Mr Palmer and please, give your daughter a kiss from her _Grandducky_!”

“You be all right here on your own, DiNozzo?” asked Gibbs.  “I want to go see if I can find Azaria at that drugs place again.  Seem to remember Abby saying that they have an evening session.”

“Anthony will not be on his own,” said Ducky with a hint of irritation, “I shall remain in attendance and will undertake to notify you if anything untoward should occur.  It is the least I can do since I still feel that I am inadvertently to blame, at least in part, for Anthony’s predicament.”

Tony groaned, “Enough!  I’m beginning to see why Boss has a rule against apologies.  For the love of … everything, you’ve apologised enough, Ducky!”

“I’ll leave you to it then,” said Gibbs.  “Call me if you need me.”

Left alone, Tony tried a healing session and then began to read through an old AP book.  Ducky started once more to leaf through his grandmother’s old book.  About an hour after Gibbs’ departure there was a knock at the door.

“Can’t be one of Gibbs’ friends … sorry, anyone he knows.  Anyone else would just walk straight in,” commented Tony.  “Wonder who it is.”

“I believe the customary way of discovering who is at the front door, is to open it,” said Ducky.  “No, no, stay where you are,” he continued, gesturing to Tony to stay where he was.  A few moments later, Tony heard a surprised, “Oh,” when Ducky saw the visitor.

Seconds later, Ducky walked back into the room accompanied by a woman with long slightly frizzy greying red hair who still wore wire spectacles, dangly earrings, multiple strings of beads worn over layers of patchwork and batik skirts and tops.

“Anthony, this is Azaria.”

Tony sat up on the couch, dislodging Bruce in the process who went to investigate the newcomer.

“Oh,” she said, “It’s the sweet little kitty-cat from St Wilhies.  Who’s a pretty kitty then?”  She stooped to pet Bruce.

Bruce had probably become too accustomed to having a macho male name and looked at her in disdain before padding away to investigate some crumbs on the kitchen floor.

“Um, what are you doing here, Miss …?” asked Tony.

“Miss Starlight,” replied Azaria, “But please, call me Azaria.”

Tony looked at her blankly.  He had had doubts about her name really being Azaria but the addition of a surname like Starlight seemed to confirm his suspicions.

“OK,” said Tony hesitantly, “ _Azaria_ , what are you doing here?”

“I was worried,” said Azaria.

“Indeed?” said Ducky, “About what?”

“And you being here confirms it,” said Azaria.  Her eyes were darting around the living room; Ducky and Tony were all too aware of the books on open display.  “You see, the other day at St Wilhies, an older man came to see me … and well, I’m sensitive you know … and Dr Mallard here does know that …”

“Er, what are you sensitive about?” asked Tony.

“To atmosphere,” sighed Azaria, “And to inner turmoil and distress.  It’s a gift you know … and a curse.” She sighed again.

Tony thought about asking whether she was detecting _his_ inner turmoil but settled for a non-committal _hmm_.

“And this gentleman who came … he said that he sometimes drank too much.  I think he was reaching out for help and I worry that I did not answer his unspoken plea although I could see the anguish in his beautiful blue eyes.  I’m very drawn to blue eyes … they speak deeply to me, you know.  And I think we were beginning to connect on a deep level … a level beyond most people’s grasp … when he suddenly took fright and ran out.  He seized the pretty putty-tat, but I knew that it was a cover for a sudden panic.  I’ve been wrestling with my conscience ever since and knew that I had to find him and tell him that I’m ready to help him.  I’ve been through so much myself and I …”

“And what makes you think he will be here?” asked Ducky.

Azaria wiped her eyes and looked pensive and then said in a brisk tone, “He gave his name to Sid on the reception desk and so I found him …”

“You ran a _trace_ on him?” asked Tony wondering if a computer search would actually pick up any activity on Gibbs: somehow, he didn’t think his Boss had a Facebook or Twitter account.

“No.  I looked him up in the phone book,” said Azaria.  “And now I know he must be in real trouble …”

“And why is that?” asked Ducky.

“Well, you’re here, Dr Mallard.  And I know how kind and thoughtful you are … you must be looking after him as well.  Where is he?  I long to help.”

“Azaria, my dear,” said Ducky, “I can assure you that Jethro Gibbs is in no need of assistance from you, but I have wanted to speak to you about the spell that you sold to Abigail.”

“I decided that Mr Gibbs must, like me, be someone who is seeking to use their _powers_ to benefit other people … or perhaps – and more likely – coming to terms with the implications of their powers,” said Azaria choosing to ignore Ducky’s comments.

“You have _powers_?” asked Tony.

“Yes,” said Azaria, “Although for a long time I have struggled to manifest them.  Dr Mallard has been of great help in that.”

“Yeah,” said Tony sadly, “He mentioned something about that.”

“I’m not sure we should be talking about this in front of people who don’t sympathise with our _powers_ ,” said Azaria looking pityingly on Tony.

“I’m sure it will be fine,” said Ducky, “Now, Azaria, it has come to my attention that the _spell_ which I gave to you was not the spell which you sold to Abby.  Why did you change it?”

Azaria said brokenly, “I’m sorry, Dr Mallard but I didn’t quite trust what you had given me.  I showed it to someone else …”

“Someone else?” said Ducky.

“Yes.  A friend of mine is also interested in exploring his powers and he said that the spell you gave me was … what’s Abby’s word? – hinky, that’s it, hinky.”

“Good Lord,” said Ducky, “And who is this friend of yours?”

“I don’t think you need to know that,” said Azaria stiffly.

“And what happened – after he looked at the spell?” asked Ducky.

“He gave me another one …”

Tony groaned.

“He said this one was rooted in both ancient and modern cultures and contained cryptic and occult symbols.”

“And would turn the object of the spell into a blue parakeet?” asked Ducky.

“Well,” said Azaria thoughtfully, “He said it was a transformation spell.  Anything to anything – there was a gap in the spell for Abby to put the animal in that she wanted.  But he wasn’t entirely sure it would work.”

“Why not?” asked Tony.

“He didn’t know if blue parakeets were known at the time of the ancient symbols, so the spell might not take.  You know, like asking a medieval witch to transform a haycart into a Rolls Royce car.”

Ducky and Tony took a moment to picture the possible chaos.  Tony was also trying to assess Azaria: she puzzled him, but he didn’t detect any APs and thought it was possible that she would have been over 50 when the suppression of APs had been lifted and therefore barred from developing powers.

“Why didn’t you trust me, Azaria?” asked Ducky although he was acutely aware that he _had_ been misleading her.  “I thought you knew that I was trying to help you come to terms with your situation in life.”

Azaria’s eyes narrowed, “I’m not stupid, you know.  I’m used to being underestimated and that’s what you did even if you tried to make me think that you were sympathetic.  But I knew that you did have knowledge about witchcraft and ancient powers … just from the way you spoke about them.  It took me a while, but I finally figured out what you were up to …”

“I was acting in your best interests,” said Ducky.

Azaria laughed a knowing laugh, “I always knew more than you realised … and I knew that you were pumping me for information.”

“I was …” began Ducky.

“But it’s all right,” said Azaria in a calmer tone, “And you being here when I came looking for someone else who is searching for insights confirms that I was right.  I was _drawn_ here …  because I saw you – and know you - for who you really are. 

“Indeed?”

“Yes!  I recognised the power in you … and, almost to my shame, I find it compelling.  You attract me as a moth to a candle!”

Tony, unwisely, laughed at the melodrama unfolding in the unlikely surroundings of Gibbs’ living room.  Azaria looked at him with acute dislike and fished in her outsize satchel and produced a large pistol which she pointed in his direction, “Be quiet,” she snapped, “This has got nothing to do with you!”

“Azaria, my dear,” said Ducky, “Whatever is the matter?”

“It’s all right, Doctor,” said Azaria, “You don’t need to pretend any longer.  I know who you are!”

“And who is that?” asked Ducky sternly.

“I should have realised earlier,” said Azaria, “It was clear to someone with my insight, but I fear I was misled by your … amiable exterior.”

“Who do you think Ducky is?” asked Tony curiously.

Azaria glared at him, “Don’t call him that!  Afford him the respect … the adoration … his position demands.”

Ducky stared at her, “You need to make it clear,” he said commandingly, “So I can be sure of your powers!”

“Your name,” said Azaria, “It was the clue that had been in front of me all the time.”

“Donald?  Ducky?” asked Tony still poking the bear.

“Silence!” the pistol was waved at Tony again.

“My name?” asked Ducky.

“Mallard!”

Tony fought back another impulse to giggle and then stared as Ducky stood straighter, squared his shoulders and raised his chin imperiously, “Continue,” he ordered.

“Mallard,” breathed Azaria, “Not an aquatic bird as so many people thought,” she shot another contemptuous look at Tony, “But a corruption …”

“Corruption?” asked Ducky frostily.

“I meant no disrespect,” said Azaria hastily, “I just meant that the name had changed … not corruptly … but just shortened, made easier to say and spell …”

“I see,” said Ducky in a more gracious tone, “Go on.”

“It was a corru – I mean, change from the original – Mal’Arts.”

“Hmm,” said Ducky, “Which means …”

“Evil Arts … I realised that you are a master of the dark arts … and I want to serve you.”

“Well done!” said Ducky, “You have passed the test and are indeed worthy of serving me!”

“Ducky!” cried Tony before trailing to a halt as he saw that Ducky had swept his hair back off his forehead accentuating the height of his forehead.  His brows were arched, and his lips were curved in a devilish and disturbing smile – despite himself, Tony shivered.

 


	15. Chapter 15

Jethro Gibbs staggered for a moment, trying to gather his wits.  A few seconds before he had been emerging from St Wilhelmina’s Support Centre after an unsuccessful search for Azaria when, suddenly, Commander Coleman and Deputy Director Jerome Craig had each grabbed one of his arms.  Jerome had hissed,

“Hold on!  There’s trouble at your house!”

The next minute Gibbs found himself standing in front of his house looking in disbelief at his front door which was lying at his feet.  Jerome and Faith kindly each kept hold of his arms to prevent another somersaulting entrance to the living room.

Gibbs swiftly disengaged his arms, drew his weapon and strode, reasonably steadily, into his living room.  As the three new arrivals walked in, Ducky emerged from the kitchen area.

“Ducky!  What the hell?” demanded Gibbs.

Ducky blushed and swept his hair back to its accustomed place, “Forgive me, Jethro for being slightly dishevelled.”

Gibbs was rarely at a loss, so it was a rare experience for him to feel his mouth drop open at this response.  He looked around his living room where the books appeared to have been swept off the shelves; at Tony who was lying face down on his couch and wondered why Ducky would think his _hair_ being out of place deserved comment.  Before he could give voice to this, however, Ducky spoke again,

“And if I might be bold enough to say, Jethro, your own hair is somewhat disarranged.”

Gibbs automatically flattened his hair which had, once again, suffered slightly from the AP mode of travelling but was prevented from speaking by Jimmy’s arrival.  Gibbs wondered why _his_ hair didn’t seem to be disturbed by the mysterious means of transport.

“Golly!” said Jimmy as he surveyed the wreckage of Gibbs’ room.

Gibbs felt that summed things up.

“And what’s that?” asked Faith.  She pointed to the floor where some dark smoke tendrils seemed to be trying to fight their way out of a luminescent blue membrane.  Fascinated, they all gathered around and, as they watched, the smoke died away and the blue covering momentarily expanded before disappearing with a POP!  The air was filled with the smell of camphor.

“Duck!  What happened?” asked Gibbs.

“We’ve had a rather _exciting_ time,” said Ducky with masterly understatement.  “Ms Starlight paid us a visit.”

“Who?” demanded Gibbs.

“Azaria,” said Ducky.

“I couldn’t find her,” said Gibbs.

“Probably because she was here,” said Ducky irritably.  “And now, if you don’t mind, I think my time would be better employed in tending to young Anthony here.”

Jimmy hastened to help Ducky turn Tony on to his back to make an examination easier.

Faith, Jerome and Gibbs looked at one another, longing and needing to know what had happened.  By unspoken agreement, it was decided that Faith might be the best person to ask Ducky for details as the doctor was old-fashioned enough to abhor discourtesy to a woman.

“Er, Dr Mallard,” she said tentatively, “What happened here?”

Ducky looked up, “I told you.  Azaria paid us a visit.”

“And then?  What happened then?” pressed Faith.

Ducky frowned, “You know I’m not sure … I suppose _Anthony_ happened.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Gibbs unable to maintain the patient approach.

“I fear you will have to wait for an answer until Anthony recovers enough to be able to explain what happened.”

“How is he, Dr Mallard?” asked Jerome.

“I think he is simply exhausted,” said Ducky after a few moments’ consideration, “Whatever he did drained what energy he had recouped.  I believe he just needs to sleep until his body recovers.  It might be a good idea, as before, for someone with Additional Powers to keep vigil over him.”

“And Azaria?” asked Gibbs, “Where is she?”

“I haven’t the foggiest idea.  Apart from not being here.”

“Dr Mallard,” said Jimmy, “Perhaps you could tell us what happened?”  He paused and saw that Ducky looked a little reluctant, “It would mean we need ask Tony fewer questions when he wakes up – and that would be better for his energy levels, wouldn’t it?”

“Hmm, yes, you are quite right, Mr Palmer.  We should do all that we can to relieve Anthony of any untoward stress.”

“So …?” prompted Gibbs.

“Mr Palmer, would you be so good as to put that chair up the right way?  I believe my legs are still feeling a little shaky and would benefit from my sitting down.”

Jimmy hastened to obey, and Ducky was soon sitting down and ready to begin.

“It was not long after Jethro and Mr Palmer had left us that Ms Starlight arrived in search of you, Jethro.  She implied that she had detected some sort of deep spiritual bond between the two of you and had come to assist you with the problems she sensed were devastating your psyche …”

Gibbs looked appalled.

“It seemed that she was not unduly surprised to find me here,” continued Ducky, “She said that she thought I was probably helping you with your latent powers in the same way as she believed I had been helping her.  As the conversation progressed, it became apparent …” Ducky paused with an embarrassed look on his face, “That she believed that I was the possessor of some deep and _powerful_ knowledge.  It was unfortunate that, at this point, Anthony laughed.  Azaria took that badly and drew what I believe to be a Glock 17, but I may be mistaken … Anthony will probably be a better judge than I although, sadly, I have become something of a …”

“Duck!” said Gibbs warningly.

“Of course, I will continue with my account,” said Ducky penitently.  “I fear that Azaria took Anthony in dislike when he treated her revelations with amusement and I became somewhat fearful that she might take some action which would lead to detrimental effects.”

“Dr Mallard?” prompted Faith gently as Ducky fell into a reverie.

“Oh!  Of course, I do apologise – despite dear Jethro’s deprecation of such an act.”  Gibbs groaned, and Ducky hurried on, “So, I fear, that I resorted to subterfuge although it goes against my instincts to do so.” He paused again, apparently awaiting some sort of reaction.

After a moment, his companions made consoling noises along the lines of, “Of course.  We understand …”

“So, I decided to play along with her belief in the hope of eliciting more information from her.  Especially in light of her revelation that someone had given her a substitute spell to sell to Abby; I hoped that, by playing along, I would be able to ascertain who this _friend_ might be.”

“And did you?” asked Jerome.

“Alas no, as you will hear.  It transpired that Azaria had come to believe that not only did I have some powers but that they were of an _evil_ type.”

“Evil?” said Jimmy in shock.

“I fear so.  And I have also to say that she was not deterred but rather _attracted_ by that thought.  It may well be that she will no longer be seeking an association with you, Jethro.  You have, I may suggest, been usurped.”

“I’ll live with that,” said Gibbs drily.

“Why did she think you had evil powers?” asked Faith.

Ducky coughed, “I fear she made suppositions about my name.”

“Your name?” asked Jimmy.

“Mallard, she believed it to be a corruption of Mal’Arts, meaning Evil Arts.”

“And is it, does it?” asked Jimmy.

“I do not believe so,” said Ducky a little haughtily, “And it is not something which I care to investigate.”

“And what happened then?” asked Gibbs.

“I swept my hair back from my forehead, endeavoured to adopt a _devilish_ appearance and commended Azaria for her insight.  I then said that she deserved to become my follower.”

“Wow,” said Jimmy.

“Wow, indeed, Mr Palmer.  I think I impressed Anthony as well as he uttered some sort of gasp.  Unfortunately, this drew Azaria’s attention back to him and she stared at him in a most disturbing way and …”

“And?” came a chorus from his listeners.

“I must confess I am not entirely clear about the next sequence of events,” confessed Ducky.

“’s OK, Ducky,” came Tony’s sleepy voice, “I’ll do the next bit.”

“Anthony!  You are awake!  My dear boy,” said Ducky, “You can be sure that we await your illumination with the utmost eagerness.  Indeed, I could liken it to …”

“Duck! Dr Mallard! Ducky!” came another chorus.

Ducky grinned to himself, sometimes he thought that other people were too easily teased.  He said nothing however, but merely sat back and waited for enlightenment.

“I could tell that Azaria had taken a dislike to me,” said Tony, “But I couldn’t feel anything particularly odd about her.  Well, apart from a feeling that she was probably seriously off her head … especially when she began going on about Gibbs’ wonderful blue eyes and the connection she felt between them …”

“Hey,” said Gibbs, “Some women do like me, you know, DiNozzo!”

“Sorry, Boss, of course they do.  Anyway, she was obviously more interested in Ducky than little ol’ me so I just hung in there listening and trying to keep out of it … until I laughed – that was a mistake ‘cos then she got her gun out.  And then Ducky told she was right, and he was some sort of dark lord … you know, Ducky, for a moment I believed you!  When you swept your hair back like that you looked real sinister … a bit like Vincent Price.”

“That is gratifying to hear,” said Ducky, “Although I was reaching more for a Christopher Lee look …”

“Well, I guess that would work too,” said Tony thoughtfully, “Or possibly, Peter Cushing … or Boris Karloff …”

“DiNozzo!  Save the movie description for later!” ordered Gibbs.

Tony looked annoyed at being interrupted but went on meekly enough, “Like Ducky said, I might have gasped when he did the devil look and Azaria turned her attention back to me.  And, just for a moment, something slipped with her …”

“Slipped?” asked Faith.

“Yeah, I think she had some way of masking herself because she did have powers of her own … kinda twisted ones.  And I think the cloaking or masking thing fell away when she was about to use those nasty powers – it felt like the spell in Abby’s lab and I had to do something …”

“And what did you do?” asked Jerome.

“It was funny really … funny peculiar, not funny ha-ha …”

“DiNozzo!” said Gibbs menacingly.

“I’d been reading in one of Ducky’s books about counteracting the actions of someone with the hinky APs … and we really need to think of a name for them, you know.  Anyway, I’d been reading about what to do so I did it.”

“And what did you do?” asked Ducky.

“Seems there’s a lot about our _powers_ which involves _thinking_ or _picturing_ outcomes.  And so, I pictured enveloping Azaria’s powers in a bubble to stop them having an effect.  And it worked!  Whatever she was trying to do, and it felt _very_ nasty, was contained.”

“Well done, Anthony!” applauded Ducky, “Well done!”

The others sat in stunned silence for a moment before Jerome said, “We saw the bubble when we arrived.  It seemed to be suffocating the … whatever it was.”

“And there was a smell of camphor,” said Jimmy.

“Really?  I don’t know why,” confessed Tony.

“Camphor is considered to be toxic to insects,” said Ducky informatively, “So it is feasible that your forebears considered it also to be toxic to these evil powers.  It will be an interesting area for future …”

“Doesn’t explain all this!” said Gibbs sweeping a hand to point to the devastation in his living room.  “Or what happened to Azaria.”

“She looked pretty mad when she saw what had happened,” said Tony, “And I was beat after doing the bubble stuff, so I thought it would be better if I got rid of her.”

“You killed her?” gasped Jimmy.

“No … well, I don’t think so.  I guess she can weasel her way out of most things and I didn’t want to kill her but just get her out of my way.”

“So, what did you do?” asked Jerome, wondering how many emergency AP forms he’d be completing.

“I didn’t know if it would work … and that might be why it was a bit out of control …”

“DiNozzo!” snapped Gibbs, “Get on with it!”

“I blew,” said Tony.

“What?” said the others, taken aback by this anti-climax.

“Hard,” said Tony in an extenuating way, “I thought if I blew, she might be blown away …”

“And?” said Faith.

“She was,” said Tony simply, “Remember, it was the first time I’d done anything like this.  There was this huge rush of wind and she was just not there any longer … and the books blew off the shelves and your door fell off.  Sorry, Boss.”

As his companions gaped at him, Bruce decided to emerge from the corner in which she had taken disgruntled shelter and jumped on to Tony’s chest.  He clasped her tightly, gave a contented sigh and fell asleep once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nearly there, just one chapter to wrap things up – I think!


	16. Chapter 16

While Tony slept, Gibbs sternly made sure that Faith, Jimmy and Jerome put his living room back to normal.  He had asked, hopefully, if they could use their APs to put the books back where they belonged but was told very firmly that this wasn’t an episode of _Bewitched_ or _Harry Potter_.  Gibbs shook his head in puzzlement and went off to put his front door back on.  Ducky pointedly ignored hints that he should help with the clear-up, choosing instead to make himself a pot of tea and continue reading his old books.

Gibbs put the last screw in the last hinge and closed the front door against the world; he hesitated and then threw the bolt as well – he wasn’t sure that a bolt would stand up against someone with malevolent powers, but it made him feel better.

“Jethro,” said Ducky when he noticed Gibbs lurking by the door, “Come and sit down, or have a cup of coffee … or something.  What’s the matter?”

“Nothing, I guess.  Just want to be sure that nutjob isn’t coming back with reinforcements.”

“I don’t think you need worry, Agent Gibbs,” said Faith.  “We’re on the alert and we would sense if she unleashed something again.”

“Huh!”

“Come, Jethro,” said Ducky encouragingly, “Have a coffee.  I’m sure that will do you the world of good!”

“All right, Duck,” said Gibbs as he realised it was probably at least an hour since his last caffeine shot.

A few minutes later, clutching an outsized mug of coffee, Gibbs sat in the chair opposite Tony and asked, “Is he going to be OK?”

“Yes,” said Ducky, “He was already much better after using the suggested therapy, but he exhausted himself by his actions repelling Ms Starlight.”

“ _He_ can hear you,” said Tony as he opened his eyes and saw everyone looking at him with varying degrees of anxiety.

“How are you feeling, dear boy?” asked Ducky.

“Much better now.  And I hope you’re going to stop apologising now, Ducky.”

“Why do you think that, Anthony?”

“You heard our visitor, she didn’t use the spell you gave to Abby.  She had another supplier, she two-timed you even if she did think you were some sort of sinister dark master.”

“Well,” said Ducky, “You may be right, but I still feel that I …”

“Save it, Duck,” ordered Gibbs.  “She was just a whack job, she’d have done something hinky without your input.”

“I’m not so sure she was a whack job, Agent Gibbs,” said Jerome.  “I think it’s clear that she had powers of some sort.  Not only did she create a nasty spell here, but she managed to transfer some of that to the spell she gave Abby.  That takes a degree of power, it wasn’t all in her mind.”

“I read something that might help,” offered Jimmy.

“Go on then,” said Gibbs.

“It seems that our ancestors suspected that when APs were unsuppressed, that the other powers would be as well, but they tried to take steps to stop them becoming widespread.”

“How?” asked Faith.

“ _Our_ powers were brought out when we met someone else with APs, it helped us figure it out and gave us a built-in community.  The other powers wouldn’t work like that, they wouldn’t sense other people who had them, so they had to work it out for themselves and alone.  I guess that we’d all say that our powers got stronger through being with one another … that wouldn’t have happened with Azaria.”

“That makes sense,” said Tony, “I couldn’t sense her powers – until she tried to use them – and she didn’t seem to sense mine.  In fact, she thought that either Gibbs or Ducky had them.”

“I think that, sadly, Ms Starlight’s powers may have _twisted_ in some way as they emerged in isolation,” mused Ducky, “And I think it is possible that she may have had access to some old documents of her own … perhaps from the _dark_ side of the powers.”

“And I guess that’s another difference,” said Jerome, “ _Her_ powers required some sort of incantation whereas ours don’t seem to.”

“We still need to find her,” said Tony, “And this friend of hers … if he exists.”

“How we going to do that?” asked Gibbs, “Have you got a way of putting out a BOLOSWOP?”

“A what?” asked Faith.

Gibbs grinned, “Be-On-the-Look-Out-for-Someone-With-Odd-Powers.”

“No,” said Jerome seriously, “But we’re working on it.  It might not be called that, though.”

“In fact,” sighed Faith, “After discovering what Tony can do, we probably have to look into a whole new tranche of regulations.”

Gibbs blinked but decided he didn’t want to get involved with that side of AP life.  Tony’s new skills seemed to rely on the use of his imagination: somehow Gibbs thought _that_ would be hard to regulate, he didn’t envy Faith the task.  He decided to change the subject, “You remember, a while back, I said I didn’t think everything that happened was coincidence?”

“Sure.  Rule 39,” said Tony, “But that was a joke, wasn’t it?  I mean, I know you’re not famous for your humour, but it must be in there somewhere.”

“No, I wasn’t joking, DiNozzo,” said Gibbs coolly, “You already know that your ancestors did stuff to make sure you people managed to connect … and I’m guessing that the stuff with Ducky’s old books isn’t coincidence either.”

“Certainly seems that the papers were protected in some way from ageing,” said Jimmy.

“Not just that,” said Gibbs, “I’m guessing a spell wouldn’t have stopped them going up in flames if the house they were in caught fire?”

“No,” agreed Jerome.

“You think there was something going on with the papers that made them end up somewhere safe?” asked Tony sceptically.

“Sure,” said Gibbs, “It was important that the information was available to you.  And some of the papers must have got destroyed but these didn’t …”

“I believe you are on to something there, Jethro,” said Ducky.  “I would surmise that my grandmother’s papers survived in part, at least, because she lived in a remote part of Scotland which was not afflicted by the bombing of the Second World War.”

“And perhaps the other documents – the Italian one and the Simples book – somehow made their way to her because of the powers within them,” said Jimmy.

“So, when I picked out the Italian book,” said Tony, “It was being drawn to me because I was the one who spoke the language.”

“Some clever people back then,” said Gibbs, “They thought things through.”

The others nodded, and silence fell.  A silence which was broken after a minute or so by a hesitant cough from Jerome.  He picked up his briefcase and drew out a sheaf of blue forms,

“Agent Gibbs, Dr Mallard … I need to talk to you.”

“Thought that’s what you had been doing,” commented Gibbs.

“Yes, and more than talking.  We are more grateful than you can know for the help you have given us.  And the Board agrees.”

“Deputy Director Craig,” said Ducky, “I want you to know that I have changed my mind about access to my papers.  I am willing that you read and study them although I would prefer to keep them in my possession.”

“Thank you, Doctor, I … we … appreciate that.  You are both aware, I hope, that the utmost secrecy is required around our _status_ …”

“Like we said before,” said Gibbs, “Who’d believe us anyway?”

“Nevertheless, it is our practice when someone has come into contact with APs that we … well … that we perform an FMI.”

“An FMI?  What’s that?” asked Gibbs.

“Forgetful Mind Implementation,” said Tony.

“What?” demanded Gibbs.

“We make people forget what they have learned about us,” said Jerome.

“It’s usually for the best,” said Faith, “For them _and_ us.”

“You can do that?” asked Gibbs.

“Yes,” said Jerome.  He held up the blue forms, “I’ve already completed the forms and had them approved for both you and Dr Mallard.”

Gibbs’ eyes narrowed, and the others braced themselves for outrage but then he seemed to relax, “I guess there’s no point in saying _No_ : from what I’ve seen I wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“No,” agreed Faith.

“But … but you’ll only take the memories relating to you?  You won’t take anything else?”

“Excuse me?” said Jerome.

“They’re good at what they do, Boss,” said Tony gently, “You won’t forget anything else.”  He nodded, and Gibbs knew that Tony knew that he feared losing his memories of his girls.

“No, Agent Gibbs … Dr Mallard … as Tony says, we are good at doing this,” said Jerome, “But …”

“But what?” asked Gibbs.

“I would prefer not to perform FMIs on you.”

“What?” said Ducky.

“If you agreed to keep silence about all this, I would like you to consider working with us,” said Jerome.

“But we don’t have APs,” said Gibbs.

“We know,” said Faith, “But we – and the Board – think it would be helpful to have people without APs working with us.  Dr Mallard’s wisdom would be of great assistance to us; he could almost serve as our moral compass.  His reasons for his reluctance to share information with us were telling and could act as a useful corrective for us.  And you, Agent Gibbs, your practicality and shrewdness, your _gut_ would be an asset as we try to work out what we should do.  Would you both consider promising to keep silent and join us?”

“I would consider it the utmost honour and privilege,” said Ducky, “I am aware that my advancing years might mean that I have to consider my future at NCIS but working with you and your Board would potentially fill a looming gap in my life.  Ever since Mother died, I have been concerned about …”

“Duck!” said Gibbs, “Enough already.”

“Indeed,” said Ducky, “I will say _Yes,_ with all my heart.”

“And you, Agent Gibbs?” asked Jerome.

“Sure.  Why not?  Might be fun … mad, but fun.”

NCISNCIS

Gibbs was startled the next morning when he emerged from his basement where he had been sleeping under the boat, to find his living room empty except for a blue parakeet perched on his bookshelf keeping a wary eye on Bruce.

Gibbs’ heart sank as he feared that Azaria’s spell had finally taken effect after all.  He was wondering how to summon help when there was a familiar popping sound and gust of wind before Tony appeared standing in front of the fireplace.

“What the hell?” asked Gibbs.

Tony grinned sheepishly and flattened his hair down, “Morning, Boss,” he said cheerfully.

“What you mean, _morning_?”

“It is morning, isn’t it?” asked Tony in bewilderment.

“Of course it’s morning, you moron!”

“Hey, you confused me, that’s all.  All I did was say _morning_ and you started shouting at me.”

Gibbs groaned: a groan which had become more frequent in his life since he encountered one Anthony DiNozzo and even more frequent since he learned about APs.  He summoned some patience and managed to say through gritted teeth, “What were you doing turned into a PARAKEET?”

“Oh,” said Tony, “Oh, I see … yes, that makes more sense.”

“Really?”

Tony seemed to sense that Gibbs’ patience had been sorely tried over the last few days and that it was best to come to the point,

“It’s Jimmy,” he said, “He was reading the Simples book.”  Tony caught a glimpse of Gibbs’ face and decided to go for the shortened version of Jimmy’s findings.  “And he read that, when recovering from the effects of the other type of APs – and we really have to find a word for them – that when recovering, changing into a blue bird was therapeutic and calming.”

“Huh.”

“So that’s what I did.”

“And you changed into a blue _parakeet_?  Was that such a good idea … you know, after what happened with Abby?”

“Well, you know we were talking about coincidences not being coincidences where APs are concerned?”

Gibbs’ eyes momentarily glazed over as he tried to disentangle this but then he nodded.

“Well, my Aunt Clara had a blue budgie … that’s what they call them in England … and she really loved him.  I told Abby about him and how cute he was, and I think that’s what might have put blue parakeets into her head.  So, I just wonder … if that was something else that was _meant_.  If the spell had been to change me into some other animal it might have worked but because I knew budgies well, I was sort of able to resist more quickly.”

“Huh,” said Gibbs.  It seemed to be something he’d said a lot recently.

“Ducky’s books are keen on blue birds,” continued Tony, “They’re supposed to be a symbol of happiness and it looks as if the AP ancestors thought they were signs of hope as well.”

“You think that’s why your Aunt Clara had one?”

“Could be, could be some sort of AP memory … or it could just be that Hetta was cute.”

“Is Hetta short for Henrietta?”

“Yes.”

“Thought you said your Aunt’s parakeet was a he?”

“He was.”

“I guess sexing animals isn’t a DiNozzo trait?” commented Gibbs.

“We have other skills,” said Tony.

“Sure,” said Gibbs.  “You feel better from being a blue parakeet overnight?”

“You know, I do,” admitted Tony, “They’re cheerful little things.  When I come back from being a merlin, I feel kinda fierce but …”

“And budgies chatter a lot,” sighed Gibbs, “You’ve got a lot in common.”

Tony decided to ignore this, “Anyways, I didn’t get a chance to say anything yesterday, but I’m glad you and the Duckman are on board with all this.”

Gibbs shrugged, “Figured you could do with the help.”

“And thanks for letting us turn your life upside-down the last few days,” continued Tony,

“Nothing new when you’re around, DiNozzo,” said Gibbs straight-faced.

Tony grinned, “And I’m sorry for blowing your door down.”

“Damn straight!  And you’d better get working on how to control that, I don’t want the Big Bad Wolf coming around again.”

It was Tony’s turn to be puzzled, “What?”

“You know, the Big Bad Wolf … huffed and puffed and blew the little pig’s house down.”

Tony stared at Gibbs for a long moment before finding a response, “Well, _I_ wouldn’t have said you’re a little pig, Boss but if that’s how you see yourself …”

Gibbs also found a response.  He delivered a head slap.

NCISNCIS

A week later, Gibbs provided supper for Ducky and the AP-ers as they discussed how they would work together.  No trace had been found of Azaria and they had decided that she had admitted defeat and gone.  There was still a worry about what the _other_ types of power might mean but, for the moment, there was nothing more to do than keep studying Ducky’s books and keep alert.

“Hope you don’t mind Bruce coming along tonight, Boss,” said Tony, “She gets lonely without me.  And it’s kinda nice having an animal that likes me … makes a change.  But I’ve learned not to switch into a blue parakeet in the apartment … she’s quick when she wants to be.”  Tony rubbed a bruised elbow ruefully.  Bruce gazed up at him blandly.

EPILOGUE

Annie Sylvester sighed as she watched the wire spectacles, dangly earrings, multiple strings of beads along with patchwork and batik skirts and tops go up in flames.  She would miss Azaria … or rather she would miss Abby and the companionship Azaria had found at St Wilhelmina’s Support Centre.  She wished she had got some of their soup recipes.

Annie knew, however, that Azaria had to go.  She wished that the friend she had told Dr Mallard had given her the spell had actually existed: she really was quite alone again.  Part of her wished that she had never started the quest to find others with her particular type of power, but she knew that she could never rest until she was part of a community.

Annie turned away from the bonfire with a last hint of regret although she knew she would enjoy wearing her preferred stylish clothes once more and no longer having to dye her hair grey. 

She knew it was foolish, but she found herself drawn one last time to the house which had been the scene of her undoing.  She stood opposite Gibbs’ house and saw them all gathered around the dinner table, laughing and enjoying themselves.

She wiped a tear from her eye but then her eyes sharpened characteristically.  She was defeated for the moment, but she would find allies and then she would be back … and they would be sorry!

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done, at last. And although I’ve left it open, I don’t intend at the moment to write anything more in this universe.
> 
> Thank you to those who have come on this corkscrew(y) ride!


End file.
